Night of the Dancing Flame
by Skyfall327
Summary: Ally Pernix's memories are scattered, lost even to her. But they tell a story of a superhero, one she will have to rediscover to face the threats that are coming. Written Slaughterhouse-5 style, the chapters aren't in chronological order.
1. Hurricane

Age 11

Mesa, Arizona

Ally knew the news wasn't going to be good.

She could see it in her father's posture, in the way her mother stared at the floor.

Mom has cancer, they said. Stage 3 peritoneal.

The doctors told her she was lucky. That peritoneal cancer is usually only discovered through autopsy. That she should thank her lucky stars that it was found at all.

Her brothers are 10 and 8, old enough to understand what cancer is, but not what it means. They sit on the couch with uncertain eyes and fearful hearts.

Ally herself feels the weight of the world on her shoulders. She loves her mother more than anything. She couldn't bear to lose her mother, not now, not ever.

The doctors set a treatment schedule involving three consecutive rounds of intense chemotherapy.

Ally watches her mother's hair and enthusiasm fade away. Her mother takes a sick leave from her job, and soon is too sick to do what she wants around the house. Her father works overtime, trying to alleviate the hospital bills. Ally is thrust into maturity, learning to cook and clean and keep up the housework that no one else can do.

The Pernix family lives on edge for months, waiting for the world to end. Somehow, it doesn't. The world keeps turning. It turns for a whole year.

Chemo ends. Doctor visits don't. Just one more test, they tell her mother, and we can declare you no evidence of disease. And eleven tests later, they do. Ally's mother is in the clear. She starts growing baby fuzz on her head. Ally feels safe for a whole month. The weight of the world is gone.

Ally turns 12, but is already closer than anyone her age to being an adult. I can do everything but drive, she jokes.

But after a month, her mother goes to a different doctor for a different thing. And Ally ends up on the same couch with her brothers, older now, but still naive.

Because the thing about cancer is that all it takes is one malignant cell in the wrong place. And if you give that one cell the right conditions, it can make more. And if you give it a month, it can infect whole organs.

The weight of the world returns with crushing force. The doctors say that they can fight it. But Ally doesn't have much faith in doctors anymore, not that she lets it show. Instead she bottles it up. She doesn't let anyone see how much it hurts. She cleans the house and keeps her brothers in line and their spirits up. She helps her father out any way she can. She takes everything in stride because somebody has to keep them all together.

Soon, Ally's mother is at the hospital full-time, her job forgotten, her dreams fading. Ally wishes she were four years older, so she could drive herself to the hospital and sit by her bedside. Instead, she has to content herself with phone calls and texts and knowing that her father gets off work in an hour and can take them to go see her.

But it isn't enough.

Time finds Ally at the foot of her mother's bed, crying softly. She can't let her brothers know, and she has to pull herself together before her father gets home. But that day, it's too much. Ally can't stop. She cries until her father comes home. He pulls her into a hug and they cry together.

Ally has never seen her father cry.

But it's not the most intriguing thing that happens on the last day that Ally remembers.

She remembers her father letting go, suddenly angry. She remembers him opening a drawer and pulling out a box.

She remembers him opening it and looking inside.

My mother told me to never use this. She remembers him saying softly. There's only one occasion that you ever should, and it should be the darkest of days.

Ally remembers being confused at his words and even more confused as he throws the box at the wall.

The world ends, and Ally succumbs to the weight of the world.


	2. Sorry About Your Parents

Age 18

I wake, suddenly, to the sound of cars driving by. The first thing I'm aware of is the hard ground grinding into my cheek, and the second is the hot sun beating down on my back. I use my arms to push myself up, groaning as my sore muscles protest. I recognize where I am, the brightly painted Renaissance Festival sign is a dead give away, even if it's a different color than I remember. I went there just last year on a school trip. However, that's all I understand.

 _How did I get here?_ The last thing I remembered was… was. I panic, sitting in the dirt, searching my memory for what I was doing last. It comes too slowly for comfort, the strangely distant memory of my parents' bedroom, endless tears, and a box thrown at the wall. It's not exactly a comforting memory, but my fear increases when I realize I'm not even wearing the same clothes now as I was then.

It's at that point that I realize that I'm glowing. Not a lot, but enough for me to see in the harsh sunlight of the Sonoran desert. I yelp in surprise as the glow intensifies, and then fades. _What the actual heck?_

I'm interrupted by a car pulling over to my side of the road. It parks, and a middle aged woman gets out.

"Oh my gosh, are you ok? You poor girl, how'd you get all the way out here?" She runs over to me as I stand, wobbly.

"I…I don't know." I tell her, starting to cry. She puts an arm around me and ushers me toward her car. I hesitate at getting in the car with a stranger, but given the circumstances, it's not my worst option.

"What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Ally." I choke out between sobs.

"Ok, Ally, I'm going to take you to the police station up the road from here, ok? They can help you." I just nod. She helps me into her car and we drive down the highway. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and am stunned to find a face I don't recognize. Its me, but older, several years older.

What happened to me?

We drive in silence until we reach the police station. She helps me out of the car and leads me inside. She talks to an officer, who then ushers me into another room, a lounge of some sort. The lady leaves before I realize that I never got her name. I sit in silence, no longer crying, but with tears on my cheeks.

Two officers walk in and take seats opposite me. There's a man and a women, both with kind eyes and sympathetic faces. A distant part of me wonders who's good cop and who's bad cop until I realize it doesn't apply here.

"My name is Jane, and this is my partner Alex." The female officer says. "Can you tell me your full name?"

"Ally Elizabeth Pernix." The male officer, Alex, types it into a tablet.

"Ally, I want you to know that you're safe now, ok? We're going to ask you some questions and then we're going to see if we can get you home, ok?" I nod. "How old are you?"

"12," I answer, even though it feels wrong. Jane knows something is wrong too.

"What's your date of birth?" Her tone has changed, it's more concerned, less comforting.

"January 18, 1994." I tell her quietly. She frowns

"Ally, it's 2012." I struggle to do the math in my head, then struggle to accept the number I come up with. 18. I'm 18.

Alex pulls something up on his tablet. It's a missing poster. It's me. I've been missing for half a decade.

A part of my brain already knows this. It's being held hostage by the majority of me that's struggling to process anything.

Jane gives me a hug while Alex continues to type away. They don't ask any more questions, though I know they must want to. Jane brings me water. They leave to go talk to someone else. I sit and stare at the wall.

Eventually we end up in a police cruiser. I look out the window. We pass the Renaissance Festival sign. They are taking me home. I wonder if they called ahead to tell my parents or if it will be a surprise. I am distracted from that though when we pass familiar parts of town that have been updated, replaced, or deserted. It hits me that the world is not the same. At the time, I do not understand how much that is true.

What hits harder is the open front door of my home, and the lizard that darts out of it as we pull up. Alex tells me to stay put while he and Jane investigate. They come back minutes later, somber expressions on their faces.

"There's nobody home. I'm not technically allowed to do this, but you can go inside if you want." Jane tells me, while Alex pulls out his radio.

"I have to see…" I'm not sure what, but I have to. I walk through the familiar front door, noting little changes. There's new pictures in the frames, decorations have been moved. The carpet in the useless front room had been changed. I walk straight to my parents' bedroom.

"This is where I last remember being." I say, not to anyone in particular, though Jane is behind me and hears every word. I move toward the wall, where there is a dent, like something was thrown at the wall. Because something was.

If only I knew what.

—

"I'll take care of her." My grandmother's voice reassures the police. Not just Jane and Alex, but the backup they called and the lady from Child Protective Services who came with, not long after I stared at the wall for longer than I know. Grandma shuts the door after they walk out, then shuffles over to where I sit at the counter. Despite being short, my maternal grandmother was a force to be reckoned with, a trait she'd passed on to my mother, who'd passed it onto me.

"They said they'd call us if they had any news of your father or brothers. It's a top priority case." Grandma sighs. "They say you don't remember about five years." I nod, tears welling up again. She leans in to hug me, and that's when I finally register what she said.

"What about Mom? You said father or brothers…" Grandma grasps my shoulders, looking into my eyes with pain and sorrow, but also strength.

"About a year after you disappeared, your mother lost her battle with cancer. She'd been getting worse ever since you left, and she couldn't hold on. I'm so sorry." I cry into her shoulder as she holds me. I shake and sob until my throat is ragged and I can't breathe.

Grandma just holds me. She's already been through this, and even though losing a child never gets easier, comfort others had always come natural to her. She know to let me cry myself out. She know to make me drink water. She knows that if I go to sleep, the tears will dry and life will be a little bit easier to manage.

She knows other things too, but she doesn't share them yet. So I listen, because I am still a child, even though the calendar disagrees. I go to sleep and I dream of my mother. A happy dream of us, where we are both healthy and complete. She laughs and I smile and everything is right with the world.

It's the last happy dream in a long time.


	3. Up in Flames

Age 19

Seattle, Washington

Another dead end. I'd spent all day chasing down a lead, but misinformation is a dime a dozen. I had limited resources as it was, and this one pretty much cleared me out. I had just enough money to get home to the apartment in Arizona that I'd moved into after Grandma died. My conscious tugged at me, reminding me that her death hadn't been the only reason I couldn't stay at the house, but I shoved it aside.

I sigh in frustration. A tip had led me all the way to Seattle, and now I was stuck in an unfamiliar city with nowhere to go and a chip on my shoulder. I should just go home. There was a bus leaving tonight according to the schedule. But I knew I'd get restless, sitting for that long, and being restless gave me less control over my abilities. So I decide to walk the streets, not looking for a fight, but knowing me, the fight would find me. The sun had already set, and sooner than later I find myself in a shady part of town, or I assume so. These places used to scare me. Then I got cornered in one. Then I learned that I was more than able to defend myself.

I don't like thinking about the hole in my memory, but my thoughts always stray there. Tonight though, they don't stay there. I am distracted by the girl coming out of the bar to my left, or more accurately, the one thrown out of the bar, followed by two guys whose intentions are anything but benevolent. I don't hear what they say to her; I'm too busy interrupting. I wonder where I learned to be so aggressive.

"Don't touch her." I don't yell it, I don't even say it angrily. But it's enough to make them stop and look at me in confusion.

"What?"

"I said don't touch her. Turn around, walk back into the bar, and forget about her." They stare at me in disbelief and try and figure out how I, a slender girl of average height, could do anything even remotely threatening.I don't blame them, I questioned it myself more than once. They do what I expect, which is ignore me and turn to enact whatever horrible intentions they have for the poor woman clutching an apparently broken arm. As soon as their backs are turned, I act, closing in on them.

I put myself in between the two, kicking one in the back of the knee as I approach and the other in the head. The first goes to his knees, and I elbow him in the face. The second stumbles back, but doesn't get off balance as much as I would've liked. I shoulder check him, catching him off guard and moving him a more acceptable distance away from the injured woman. I dart back to her while the others are still shocked, pulling her from the ground and ushering her down the alley.

"Hey," one yells after us, and I know they won't give up so easily, but I realize I'm not as eager for this fight as I have been for others. I'm more focused on protecting this woman instead of venting my frustration. But I have to end this, or they won't leave her alone. I turn to face them, mentally accessing the fire inside of me. I let the glow out, not very much, but enough to let them see the light in the dark alley. Enough for the light to shine out the cracks in my face and arms. Enough for fire to leak from my eyes and curl away like smoke.

But I'm the one struck by fear. The two thugs don't run away in fear, they barely even flinch. In the four months that I've been searching for answers, I've been in many fights just like this one. Except they all end when I do the impossible. I've been relying on it. And now I don't know what to do. I stand frozen, faintly smoldering still, watching them as they approach. Then instinct, strong and from an unfamiliar source, kicks in. My brain starts processing, taking in information, putting it together.

That is not a bar. It's an empty, logoless office. The two in front of me are not the only hostiles, they've been joined by six or seven more from the building. They aren't just perverts with muscles either, these men are trained professionals. I surprised them the first time, and I've lost that advantage. It's not a lot of information, but it's enough to act.

"Run," is all I tell the woman beside me. She moves down the alley, and I run… towards the scary men lurking in the shadows.

I glow brighter as I approach, and I'm not sure if I'm controlling it or losing control. My hands burst alight, fists full of flame. There's fear in their eyes now, but I can no longer back down. I'm tired of not getting answers. I'm tired of this world being the way that it is. I'm angry that I can change so little of it. I'm angry that this power threatens to consume me, and that I cannot let it as free as I would like. But none of that matters, because I'm am no longer in command. Instinct is steering this ship, and it's going to make them pay.

I reach the first two who I've already hit and grab the front of one's shirt, swinging him around and pushing him into the other. He catches fire and pins the other underneath him in a stunned panic, trying to put the fire out. There are actually eight more, I can see now that I'm close enough to light the street where they're standing. I had a head start before, they didn't expect me to attack so quickly. That's gone, and they begin to fight back.

I duck a punch, using that momentum to sweep my leg into the offender's knees and knock him over. I spring from the ground to bring my shoulder up against another's chin, kick another in the chest and another in the groin. I deal out punches and elbows to whatever gets close, and any fabric I get close to starts to burn. Two thoughts run through my head, repeating like mantra. Make every hit count. Don't let it go to ground, you'll lose all advantage. I realize it's not even my own thoughts, its a memory, advice I got somewhere from someone I no longer remember.

It doesn't matter. I keep hitting, taking down three, four, five. Halfway through. There's a lull in the fight, the remaining men have realized that this isn't as easy as they originally thought. But I'm getting tired, I've dodged as best I could and it's not enough. I've accumulated a full rack of bruised ribs, some sprained fingers, and one of them landed a solid hit to my head. Bodies burn around me with part of me horrified and part of me indifferent.

The lull lasted seconds. It's not enough to catch my breath or make a plan, but I attack anyway. I have never fought like this, not that I can remember. I have never fought opponents that don't run away when a girl literally sets everything she touches on fire. They don't back down, and I hold my own for a little while longer, taking out six and seven. I miss the shot to take down eight, creating an opening for nine to knock me straight into ten, who tries to restrain my arms behind my back, despite the fact that it must burn like hell. There isn't much left of my shirt, it's burned away. I've already broken my first guideline, so I throw the second away as well. I roll forward, breaking mostly free from his grip, and we land on the ground, both on our backs with me on top. I flip, straddling him, and deal a knockout punch. It's my last.

Eight picks me up by the waist and throws me through the window of the not bar. I gasp in pain at the impact, dazed. Eight and nine walk into the building, followed by two or three others that have had time to recover. My light sputters, then pulses. I was barely keeping a semblance of control before, now there's nothing I can do. My body explodes with light, setting everything ablaze. For one eternal moment, there is nothing but light.

Then there is nothing but darkness.


	4. Chasm

Age 13

Unknown

There are five of us. I can tell because we are the only ones not wearing dark hooded robes with tattoos of some strange symbol on their forehead. We are the only ones with fear in our eyes. But I'm the only one restrained, I'm the only one who has fought back. I got a couple of good hits in, but I'm now being held still by two very intimidating musclemen. And trying not to cry.

Just hours ago I was home, happy because Mom had finally made it home from the hospital. Happy because everything finally seemed to make sense, even when Dad and I were still affected by the incident.

But now, nothing made sense. This room is strange, lit by a single fire held in a giant bowl in the center of the room. Beside it is a giant stone table. A drummer sits in the corner, pounding out a quiet but insistent beat. Besides the two on either side of me and the other captives, there are ten or fifteen robed people and they all seemed to be waiting for something.

The subdued chatter in room quiets as a woman strides into the room. She wears a dark robe like the rest, but her hood is down. It has to be in order to make way for the red, spiny headdress that stands out from her long blond hair. It looks like a blood red starburst. I'm not sure if the silence from the others is out of respect or fear.

"This day is one we have waited decades for. It's is a small sacrifice to pay to find such promising candidates. I can feel it in the air, this day will bring us what we seek. Let us begin." She gives a smile that sends chills down my back. I shiver, trembling even in the room warmed by the ferocious flame.

The others in the room seem to need no further instruction. They bring another one of the "candidates" and put him on the table, holding him down. The boy is perhaps a year older than I am, with strawberry blond hair and green eyes that water as he fights back tears. That's when I realize that it's not a table, its an altar.

"Kustaa, of the strongest Berserker blood, open yourself to the power of the Eternal Flame." The boss lady tells the boy. Tears trickle down his cheeks. The robed ones begin to chant in an unfamiliar language. One uses a large ladle to somehow scoop up some of the fire in the bowl. I understand what they will do before it happens. They're going to pour it on him. Then they'll do the same to the rest of us.

I shut my eyes as the boy begins to scream. Each shriek send fear shuddering through me. I don't look until the screams have stopped, and then all that remains is a pile of ashes. They don't bother cleaning it off, they just lay another sacrifice on top. Now I feel sick as well as afraid. The next one, a girl, shares her fate with the first. She screams before the fire even reaches her, and I can't watch then either. The two besides me still alive try to run, finally showing some fight in them. They are soon restrained next to me.

The third, another girl, refuses to cry. She doesn't scream as the flames engulf her. I force myself to watch, because she seems to be fighting it. The flames build, dancing, and pulsing. They burn incredibly bright and then fly away from her, receding back into the cauldron. She lies unconscious on the stone, and they take her away. I wonder if something finally went right, or just a different type of wrong.

The fourth, a boy, fights the flames as well. He seems to last longer than the girl, but ultimately goes up in flames like the first two. I cannot fight the tears, but I do fight my guards. I don't want to die. But I'm not strong enough to break free, even though I hear bones crack from my kicks. They flip me onto the table, holding me in place, reinforced by the others.

"Ally, descendant of the only one known to have borne the Flame, strengthened by Kree treachery, open yourself to the power of the Eternal Flame!" I'm too scared to respond. I watch the fire approach, bracing myself, trying to break free and failing. The ominous chanting conceals my frantic sobbing.

Searing pain cuts through my heart, it seems to burn my very soul. I scream, the breath itself burning as it emerges from my body. The fire penetrates every cell of my body, seemingly racing from one end to the next. I beg for the end, any end to come. The fire suddenly changes, coalescing in my heart. The already impossible anguish intensifies, and I think for a moment that I will shatter because of the pain.

The whole world shifts, suddenly and absolutely. The pain disappears, but the fire remains, now as a part of me as if I were born with it. I am no longer blinded by the flames; I can see wonder and amazement in the previously solemn faces of my captors. I sit up, they are no longer holding me down. I notice my whole body glowing, the flames flickering beneath my skin and bursting out in small cracks. It doesn't hurt, though I can still feel the heat in my veins.

And I can feel the anger. They did this to me, ripped me from my home, forced whatever this is onto me. I meet the eyes of the woman in charge, the tears long since evaporated by my own heat. We share a brief moment, unblinking and unmoving.

"Finally, success." Her voice oozes out her mouth like molasses. "How does it feel?" I'm angry at her calm, unphased demeanor.

"It feels like this." I raise my arm and will the flames to attack. I send a bolt of flame at her face, but she must have anticipated it because a thin wall of energy blocks it from reaching her.

"Oh no, we'll have none of that." She raises a hand in response and suddenly I am cold, colder than I've ever been, and the light coming from my arms sputter out. "Take her to her quarters, we'll teach her some manners later."

She strides from the room, and I am left once again to be restrained and moved by strange men in dark robes. They bring me to a room that locks behind them as they leave. I shiver on the bed where they left me, realizing how exhausted I am, but determined not to sleep in this strange place. I fall asleep there, still cold, afraid, and far away from home.


	5. Bad Blood

Age 18

Mesa, Arizona

There's only a couple ways to spend the summer in Arizona. It's too hot. Like murder an egg on the sidewalk hot. My family doesn't have a pool, so our go-to option is to watch hilariously awful movies together and yell at the TV.

I sat on the couch thinking about how nice it was to just be able to sit here with my family. It had been a rough couple of years. Mom was gone. Loki was gone, no matter what had happened in New York. I finger the emerald at my neck, it's familiar smoothness a sweet reminder. I missed Mina. But I was finally safe, finally home. I didn't have to worry about Eldmara, she couldn't find me here. I was at peace with my powers.

"That's the third time she's used moist in the last 15 minutes," Ty whines at the movie. "It's so gross." I chuckle.

"What? You don't like the word moist?" I tease. I know that he doesn't. But as the oldest child it's my purpose to torment the lives of my younger siblings. "Moist, Moist, Moist, Moist." Ben joins in chanting at Ty's face. My dad smiles at us from the couch, his iPad in his hands, playing the latest train game that he found. I think he's about to say something when there is an insistent pounding on the front door. I spring from the couch in alarm, old habits rising. Moving to the door, careful to not be seen by the open front window, I look in the peephole. My dad is behind me and the boys have followed. I kick myself for not making them stay back. But there's no threat, not immediately at least.

"What are you guys doing here?" I exclaim as I pull the door open, ushering Sif and Mina inside. "What's wrong?" I give Mina a hug, but keep eye contact with Sif, who looks worried.

"We aren't safe here," Sif answers. "We need to move."

"It's Eldmara," Mina fumed. "She found you."

"But you cloaked me! You said she couldn't track me, not like before." The panic sets is, the light I've been managing for months starting to pulse with agitation.

"Ally?" My dad calls from behind me. "What…" He doesn't seem to know which question to ask, which is fine because I don't know how to answer.

"I'm sorry." Mina is angry and scared at the same time. "It wasn't enough. I'm not strong enough." I take a deep breath, giving myself one last moment of fear.

"How long do we have?" I ask Sif, springing into motion. "Will Asgard take us in?"

"An hour, maybe less. Heimdall is waiting, but you'll have to talk to Odin when we arrive." Sif answers quickly, her steady efficiency is comforting. I turn to face my dad, he's scared too, but for a different reason. He's never seen this side of me, the soldier who evaluates and solve problems without fear.

"Can you delay it?" I ask him, trying to find options.

'I can't. I can't see what we're fighting." He's frustrated, but I just breathe and nod.

"Then we're leaving. I'm sorry," I address all three of the boys, making a plan. "We have ten minutes to move. Pack a few changes of clothes and anything you can't live without but that you can carry. We aren't coming back." Ben is crying, but Ty drags him to the room they share. My dad needs extra validation. "She's coming for me. She doesn't care who is in the way and she will kill you and Ty and Ben to get to me. We'll be safe in Asgard."

"Ok," he accepts. "I trust you." He leaves to pack. I head to my room and Sif and Mina follow. I change into my pair of fireproof clothes, the sweet scent of Asgard still perceptible. I think of what I want to bring, but I've moved so many times that there's nothing really valuable to me besides the necklace I'm already wearing. Except maybe the sketchbook, so I pick it up and tuck it under my arm.

"Ally, I'm sorry. I thought you'd be ok, I really did." Mina sounds heartbroken.

"It's ok. We can do this." I give one last look at my room, the bed unmade, a full basket of laundry needing to be done, and my closet unorganized. Then I turn and leave without another thought.

—

We are on the road minutes later, driving down Bush highway towards Tucson. We can't call Heimdall too close to populated areas, the Bifrost reacts strangely with human technology. My dad drives like a bat out of hell, dangerously over the speed limit. My brothers look scared, my friends look sick. I look both when frost starts to form on the car windshield in Arizona, in June.

"Pull over!" I yell at my dad, and he slows enough that when the ice hits the wheels and we careen off the road it's at a non lethal speed. "She's here," I tell Mina and Sif as we get out of the car. "We have to end this."

Eldmara stands out against the pale tans of the desert, her trademark dress and headpiece seem even more blood red in the sun. I loathe this woman with every fire in my being.

"Oh, my pet. Did you think you could run from me forever? You belong to me." I can feel her icy tendrils on my arms, my face. I breathe out, warming myself, allowing light to seep through the cracks in my skin.

"I belong to no one but myself. You are not my master. You can't hurt me anymore. You have no claim and no power over me." Sif unsheathes her sword and Mina summons a psychic construct, knives of rose-colored energy. My family has left the car to watch, or maybe to run.

"Don't I? Ally, what makes you think I would let you out of my sight? I have had eyes on you when you felt at your safest. I was just waiting for you to be ready." Her smile is victorious, even though the fight hasn't yet begun. It throws my off guard just a little.

"What are you talking about?"

"Mina, dear, why don't you let Ally in on our little secret." No. My heart stops, and my enemies press their advantage. Mina puts me in a headlock, her magic leeching my energy. I watch helplessly as Sif charges at Eldmara, only to be frozen completely. My brothers and father share the same fate as they try to run.

"No!" I roar, trying to feed my internal fire, to fight back. Mina's magic is too strong. "Don't hurt them. It's me you want." I choke out a sob.

"Of course it's you I want. But they would try to stop me and I've waited so long for you. You're powers are fully realized now, and there's nothing that you can do about it." Mina forces me to my knees.

"How could you? Were you ever even my friend?"

"Yes, Ally, I was. But this is more important to me. You've seen how Asgard treats witches. Eldmara can make a better world for us. I'm sorry, I…" She sounds honest. I don't care

"I trusted you."

"I know." She start to chant, I know the incantation. It makes my blood run cold.

"No. No Mina, please" Eldmara laughs. "This is your plan. You're going to erase me? Then what? What good will that do?"

"Then our master can insert her own conscience into your body and control the Eternal Flame, finally fulfilling her greatest goal." Mina's voice drips with self satisfaction.

I can feel the effects of her spell already. I don't remember how we got here, and the more that I try, the harder it becomes. I cry out in pain and frustration, knowing I have to act before I lose myself entirely. I reach for the heat around me, feeling the baked desert ground on my palms. I don't pull it towards myself like I want to, instead I push it out toward Sif and my family. I keep that thought at the forefront of my mind, even when I stop remembering how I was home with my family. Even when I wonder how my brothers look so old. Even when I forget who the lady with the sword is.

All I know for sure is that I have to reach my family. Memories continue to rise and then disappear. Two men in red and gold capes yell at each other. I see a rainbow, vibrant and beautiful. A man with black hair and green falls into darkness before I have time to remember his name. I strain to focus on the present, on the red dress woman who laughs in my face here and a hundred times more in my memories. I look away from her, searching for purpose, for answers.

I see my father's face, and I know I just have to reach him.

The ice that surrounds him, my brothers, and the sword lady melts suddenly, and I feel as if I've just moved a heavy weight with my mind. I stare in disbelief with my hands, they're glowing. All of me is glowing. Sword lady goes for the girl that was holding my head and shoves her toward the other one in the red dress.

"Go! Call for Heimdall!" I don't know what that means, and I start to cry. My father runs toward me, holding me in his arms like he did what feels like moments ago in my parents' bedroom. Clarity rushes through my head and I remember it all. Sif fights Eldmara and Mina at the same time, barely fending off their attacks. "Go Ally!"

I can't, I can't leave her here. She can't fight them both, but I'm so weak that I can barely hold myself up.

"Ally," My dad's voice is solemn. I've only seen him use his gift a couple times, and I can see how much effort it takes. "I can't hold on forever. You have minutes before whatever she did starts affecting you again." I know what I have to do. Everything I've done has brought me to this moment. I'm still not prepare.

"It's ok," I tell him, summoning all of my strength. My skin glows brighter, it's natural yellow light giving way to a brilliant white. "You have to let me go. Get the boys, and," I struggle to stand and my dad helps me up. "When Sif disengages, run into the desert. Trust her." I look into his eyes. I see his grief from all these long years, but I also see his love for me. "You can't ever come back. It's not safe. Promise me."

"I promise. Sunshine, I love you. I'm so proud of you." I am able to stand on my own, but he continues to hold my hands, like the strong supportive parent who can't quite let go of the toddler learning to walk.

"I love you too Dad." He runs toward my brothers who have been too afraid to move. I run toward the fight, fists full of anger incarnate. Sif does a good job keeping them distracted and I hit Mina right across the back, burning hot enough to dent her armor in the shape of my fist. She screams as the superheated metal burns. She collapses, trying to form a barrier in between her back and her armor but she can't sustain it. I put myself in the path of an icy blow from Eldmara meant for Sif. We share a brief look, but she knows what I can't say.

Sif makes one last swipe at Eldmara, giving me an opening to attack. I take over the fight, and I catch one last glimpse of Sif as she ushers my family away. Good. They'll be safe. As I trade blows with Eldmara, her icy powers barely a match from my unkempt fury, Mina rises to rejoin the fight. I let them corner me, the fight has to last long enough for the ones I love to get away before I complete my end game.

But I can only fight them both for so long. My strength wasn't great at the beginning and I can't hold out for too much longer. Eldmara knows this. I can see it in her grin.

"You know I'm just going to hunt them down and kill them with your own powers once I take you, right?"

"You won't get me. I'm not in your control anymore. I have one last trick up my sleeve."

"So did your boyfriend and he's dead." That hurts more than any physical wound I received today, but I press on.

"No more games Eldmara. No more." I reach for all of my powers, every last bit, and when I run out of that, I break my promise. I do what Loki told me never to do. I reach for my life force, for the core of my power, my being.

I light it on fire.

I do not combust, I become fire, white-hot and inescapable. I become the thing I hate. Eldmara and Mina scream in pain, and I feeling the pain of burning. I settle an ancient debate.

The world ends in fire.


	6. You'll Be Back

Age 13

Unknown

I wake up no longer cold, which is comforting, but also alone and worried. I shiver at even the thought of the sudden chill the scary lady had forced on me. I sit up and pull my legs close, looking around the room. There are no windows; the room is lit by sconces of fire on the walls. The walls and floor are grey stone, like some kind of medieval building. The room is small, and the only things in it are the thin bed that I'm on and a couple of pots in the corner.

The door swing open, revealing a hooded figure carrying a bundle of black fabric. Fear hits me like a truck, and I scramble to get off the bed and away from them. My skin lights up again, the fire leaking uncontrollably from my palms. It catches the edge of the bed on fire as I leave it, and my panic only soars.

"Hey, whoa, it's ok." The hood drops back to reveal a girl a couple years older than me, and she extends a hand toward the burning blanket as she approaches. "Vertu í friði," she mutters, and the fire dies. "It's ok, I'm not going to hurt you. I'm here to help. I need you to work with me and we don't have a lot of time. My name's Mina." She crouches down beside me, face kind. I'm not expecting that, but I'm also not calm.

"I want to go home," I cry. Mina puts a hand on my knee.

"I know." She sighs. "But you can't. Not right now. It's not safe." I look at her with tearful eyes. "Listen, I know you're scared, I would be too. But I need you to be brave. We have to go meet some important people today. I brought you some new clothes, I'll leave so you can get dressed, and when I come back I'll answer any questions you might have." She pats me on the knee before heading out of the room, leaving the bundle of clothes on the bed.

I consider my options. I don't want to be here, but it doesn't look like that will change any time soon. Besides, Mina was kind to me, which hasn't exactly been the case recently. I decide that, at least for now, I will trust her. The clothes turn out to be a dress, and putting it on makes me feel uncomfortable. The fabric is thin but not see-through, and the sleeves barely cover my shoulders, which would be less of a problem if the front didn't open to my sternum. Similar slits come up to mid-thigh on either side, and the back is open as well. There's no bra, not that I need one, but it's seems like the finishing touch on making me look like someone I'm not.

"Oh, good, you've changed." Mina strides back into the room, carrying more things. "And you're not on fire anymore, which is a good sign." I look down to notice that I am, in fact, no longer leaking fire, though I'm still glowing faintly. "Don't worry about the dress, it's fireproof." She tosses some shoes on the ground in front of me, a pair of simple sandals. I slip them on.

"Where are we going?" I finally get up the courage to ask. Mina gives me a forced smile.

"We... are going to court in the city. Eldmara sent a messenger to the king to let him know of our success and he wants to see you as soon as possible. Which is why we are in such a hurry, because we can't disobey the king, but we aren't exactly ready for that." There's an edge in her voice that I can't quite tell who it's directed at. But Eldmara must be the important scary lady, because I get a slight chill at the mention of her name. Mina starts tying ribbons on my arm that lace from my bicep to my wrist with less then steady fingers. "Alright, here's a quick court behavior lesson. Don't speak unless spoken to, bow when I bow. Use 'Your Majesty' when answering King Odin, though I don't think he'll address you, but if he does, make eye contact while you speak and then look down. That should keep you out of trouble, though I'll admit that most of my courtly knowledge is outdated." This information is alarming and I'm even more overwhelmed by this turn of events. What place did I have talking to kings?

"Wait, what?" I find my voice. "I don't understand."

"Did you get all that?" Mina asks.

"Yes, but…" I'm cut off, and Mina talks even faster than she was.

"More importantly, when Eldmara speaks to you, use the same rules, but use "Your Grace" when you respond. Do everything she tells you, she doesn't like being disobeyed. Come on, let's go." She finishes tying the ribbons, but I'm still super confused and more than a little overwhelmed. Mina looks at me expectantly, and I move to follow her out the door when I notice something else on her face. There's fear there that she's trying to hide, but her speedy words and trembling fingers make it evident. My behavior doesn't just have effects on me, she's responsible too.

I don't want to be here and there's a part of me that wants to fight back with every ounce of strength I possess. But I know that won't get me home. Mina has at least been nice to me, and I think that I can do what she says.

She leads me down the hall that I only vaguely remember from before, and we pass the room with the altar, silent and empty now, but still full of pain. We pass figures dressed in simple clothes, and no one is wearing hoods like they were last night, which strikes me as odd.

"Where are we?" I ask Mina quietly. We've started up some stone stairs, and Mina doesn't stop to answer my question. As we reach the top she pushes open the doors that block us from going further. I step out into sunlight, only now realizing I've been breathing musty air.

"We're in the Temple of Hagalaz, on the outskirts of Asgard." She says slightly smug. I gape at the sight in front of me, the view is stunning. Sprawled before me are stone mansions marbled with majestic gold craftsmanship and in the distance I can see what appear to be enormous pure gold pillars rising to form a palace.

No place like this exists on Earth. The beauty is too exquisite, and no human technology could build this. I am far, far away from home, and for a split second, it is worth it to be able to see this view. Until of course, the view is marred by a figure in a red dress and headpiece.

"Enjoying the view, are we? It's not what it was. Asgard has lost what made it a grand city. However, we are a step closer to that now that we have you." Eldmara's voice drips with condescension; it is obvious I am no more than an object to her. I want to attack, but two things stop me. Mina's eyes plead with me to behave, and there's an unnatural chill going up my spine. I look down at the floor, avoiding eye contact because I'm pretty sure that's what Mina said to do. "Looks like my sorceress has taught you some manners. Good, we need to be leaving." She strides away, expecting to just be obeyed. I'm still angry, but also still scared. Mina follows after her and I follow, wondering what Eldmara meant by "sorceress."

We board something that looks like a boat with wings that hovers in the air. I spend the entire ride taking in the view; I don't believe that anything could be grander than this sight, no matter what Eldmara says. It doesn't take long to figure out that we are headed to the palace, and my wonder is soon fighting anxiety.

We soon disembark, the gold pillars leer intimidatingly as we enter the palace, and I stay close Mina as we pass dozens of guards in golden armor. Eldmara strides into what I assume to be the throne room like she owns the place, but Mina and I walk a little more cautiously. I remember to keep my gaze to the floor, even though all I really want to do is stare at the architecture.

"Announcing Her Grace, the High Priestess Eldmara of Hagalaz!" Someone announces. I watch Mina for the bow, and I perform a probably incredibly dorky bow.

"King Odin," Eldmara calls out with more respect than I thought she was capable of, "I thank you for your graciously allowing us to finally access the sacred Eternal Flame. Our labors have not been in vain, of the five that we attempted to bond, three survived, and one is successful."

"Good!" The king's voice booms, it's loud and harsh and echoes in the vast room. "You're finally doing something useful. Is she trained?"

"Not yet, Your Majesty. She only bonded last night. However her abilities are extraordinary." Eldmara coolly. I got the impression she was trying to save face, but I doubted that was going to go well for me.

"Show me! I should like to see that." All eyes turn to me, and I look up, startled, taking in the room for the first time. It's massive, and on the throne is the stereotypical white-haired king, except for the eyepatch. On either side of him are two younger men who are obviously not guards, one has a green cape and the other red. Eldmara shoots me a death glare and Mina looks like she's pleading for me to do something. "Well, don't just stand there!"

I'm terrified, but I have to do something. I step forward timidly. I've been glowing this entire time, and it starts to pulse as I grow more nervous. I have no idea how to do this on purpose; I started the bed on fire this morning purely on accident. I search inside me, looking for anything. I find fire in my soul somehow and I reach for it. My hands ignite, and I hold them up half in wonder and half in panic. I let it go for a second, but then I realize I have no idea how to stop it. It turns out I don't need to, a sudden chill comes over me and the flames sputter out.

"Remarkable! I look forward to seeing what she can do." He doesn't look like it, the king actually looks pretty bored. I know this because I forgot to look away, though nobody seems to care. I catch the eyes of the man in the green cape and quickly look at the floor. "Now, we have another matter to attend to, do we not? In private?" Odin asks.

"Of course, Your Majesty." Eldmara replies. It's difficult to judge by her tone, but I think she's uncomfortable. I don't know what to do next, but I look sideways at Mina as the king stands up.

"Are we joining you, Father?" The voice comes from the man in red. His voice is loud too, but gentler.

"No." The king offers no further explanation. As they exit the room, my brain starts to process it all. Who were these people? Why was I really here? Where was here? I don't have answers. There's an awkward pause that almost kills me with anxiety. I'm who knows how far away from home, I now have creepy fire powers, and I'm worried about how I'm supposed to act in a royal court?

Mina looks just as uncomfortable, and then even more so as the two men on the dais step down and walk towards us. She performs another quick curtsy and I follow, nervous.

"Your Highnesses." Mina greets, her voice shaking.

"Please, when Father's gone, Thor and Loki is fine." The red cape one says. I assume he's Thor, and that rings a faint bell. The other one, Loki, looks a little more skeptic at abandoning propriety, but he doesn't say anything. Thor, Loki, Odin, Asgard, aren't those from one of the mythologies? Not Greek, Norse? Norse. My brain about blows out of my head as I realize that I'm in the presence of gods. Actual living, Norse gods. Though will everything that's happened in the last 24 hours, it's not surprising that something else completely mind blowing is happening.

"What are your names?" Loki asks. He seems more reserved than Thor, who's smiling exuberantly.

"Mina Dalgaard," Mina says shyly.

"Ally Pernix," I reply confidently.

"It's nice to meet you." Loki tries to say something else, but Thor interrupts.

"Can you do the fire thing again?" He asks.

"Um," I panic, not sure that I can. I reach for the same place inside where it was before, and both my arms go up in flames. My heart beats fast as the flames grow more erratic, or maybe it's the other way around. Thor seems entranced by it, but there's something deeper about Loki's reaction. He's intrigued, like he's trying to figure out how I make it work. I don't even know that, and I still don't know how to make it stop. I focus on it, willing it to go away. At first, it doesn't budge so I push at it harder, trying to snuff it out. After a great deal of mental willpower, it finally dies away. I smile, strangely proud of myself. Nothing like purposefully setting myself on fire.

"Can you do anything like that?" Thor asks Mina, who immediately blushes. Her eyes keeping darting toward the exit and the door that Eldmara and the king disappeared to.

"Not really, Your Highness. I was an apprentice sorceress before the High Priestess," she falters over her word choice for a second. "Took me in." Thor looks decidedly less interested, but I still have no idea what anyone's talking about. Thankfully, Loki perks up.

"Old Age magic, I presume? From the talismans." He gestures to her necklace and rings. "I'm a New Age man myself. Do you have an emphasis?"

I snap. This day has officially reached the point of too weird for me to just go along with.

"What?" I almost lose my nerve as the three of them turn to look at. "Magic? Who are you people?" Judging by my hands, I look like a wildfire, casting light in erratic waves all over the floor. "What the heck?" Mina looks appalled, Thor is confused, and Loki is hesitant. Interrupting the conversation was probably incredibly rude, but I don't really care. Mina is the one who breaks the silence that ensues.

"Oh, um, Ally is from Midgard. I should've explained more, but we didn't have time," she admits frantically.

"Allow me," Loki says. "I assume you're unfamiliar with Asgard?" I always thought that when I was deeply terrified, I'd cry or freak out like I did last night. Apparently today, I'm going with sarcasm.

"I'm unfamiliar with everything that's happened to me since I was abducted and got fire poured on me yesterday," I quip. I only slightly regret the words as they come out, and only because Mina is staring at the ground in shame. I can tell I've cast a pall on the room, but I'm not backing. Loki replies more quickly and with less awkwardness than I expected.

"Midgard, or Earth, is part of nine realms ruled by Asgard, of which our father Odin is king. Midgard is largely unaware of our presence, though there are likely still remainders in your mythology. We are more advanced in the field of science than Midgard, and one of those branches is more properly called magic. Simply put, magic is the use of one's life force to produce a result. The Old Age magic uses talismans and incantations to provide extra energy and produce more specific and lasting results, while New Age focuses more on temporary changes or tricks like illusions." Loki takes a breath before continuing. The look in his eyes changes from patient to uncomfortable. "The circumstances of your arrival, however…"

"Are matters of personal business." Eldmara's voice sends ice through my heart. I hadn't heard her come in. The king doesn't make a reappearance, their council must have ended. I panic, looking at the princes for help, but they seem uncertain, and I don't know why. "We're leaving." Eldmara gives no further explanation, and Mina and I are quick to follow her out of the room.

I walk nervously; I don't want to go. I have more questions, and so far there's only been one person willing to answer them. Just before we get out of sight, I spare one last glance at Loki. He looks angry, and a little bit sad. Then we turn the corner and he's gone, leaving me in the hands of an obviously offended Eldmara. As we board the boat thing, she turns to glare at me. I feel cold and my light grows dim.

"I'm only going to say this once. You belong to me. You were nothing before, and you are still nothing. You're a vessel for the Flame inside you and nothing more. Do you understand?"

I'm filled with the same rage as I was last night, but I have a little more perspective now. If I want to get out of this I will have to play along.

"Yes, Your Grace."


	7. Leave My Body

Age 13

Temple of Hagalaz, Asgard

I had questioned the purpose of the mirror they'd installed in my room; it was the only new addition besides the small chest of clothes. However, it quickly became clear what it was for. Eldmara wanted me to see the scars on my face, the bruises and cuts that covered most of my body, and the raging fire that illuminated all the wounds that hadn't healed. We'd only been away from Asgard for four months, but I already looked like a vastly different person. I had dressed myself in the same outfit I'd worn to my first appearance in court, even though I hated it, because it was the only thing I owned that wasn't torn or covered in blood.

So that's where Mina found me, staring at my broken self. I'd lost weight, my hair had been chopped off, and I couldn't quite stand up straight. Yet, considering what I'd been through, I was lucky to be alive.

"We need to get going." I tried not to be frustrated with Mina. She was just as much a slave as I was, but she never had to enter the ring, or face the spectators that screamed in savage delight. Her place was to keep me in line, no matter the means, and when Eldmara wanted results, it was Mina she used.

"What do you think the king wants? It has to be big for Eldmara to actually heed the invitation and risk coming back." I try to talk to Mina when I get the chance, but she usually closes off. I don't blame her.

"Hard to say, but it's got the High Priestess in bad mood."

"She's always in a bad mood."

Mina turns out to be right, but Eldmara knows she can't risk anymore physical abuse so I just have to endure the frigid cold that surrounds me even in the midst of Asgard's eternal summer. I temper it with the beautiful sights of the city. I dream of this shade of gold, strong but gentle.

We arrive at the palace fairly quickly. I think of the last time I was here, whole, but naive and unknowing. The throne room is the same as it was, same solemnity, same occupants, with the addition of a woman in gold standing next to the king. A guard announces us, which feels redundant, since they obviously watched us approach. I don't look up farther than my own feet; I hurt too much to risk defiance. I don't need to give Eldmara another reason to beat me when we get out of here.

"Good, you're here. As you know, I've been planning an expedition to Niflheim for quite some time, and I've decided to go ahead with it. Every future king should have a worthwhile quest under their belt and since we're only a couple years out from Thor's coronation, we running out of time. We've sent ahead a preliminary scouting party, and they're running into a consistent problem keeping light sources functional." I'm surprised to hear so many words from the king, because he had seemed so terse the first time.

"It's the fog," the woman in gold adds. "It puts the torches out and I can't get any of my enchantments to hold. We need a light source that doesn't need to be relit every five minutes."

Eldmara obviously thinks this isn't worth her time. I think I understand what they're getting at, but it seems too good to be true. "Well, I know some helpful spells, but I'm no sorceress. Perhaps Mina…"

"Don't play coy with me, Eldmara, you know what we're after. We want the girl." Odin resumes his blunt demeanor. I tense, knowing Eldmara will never go for it.

"I'm not sure I can meet that request, Your Highness. She's still learning to control her powers; she's in the middle of training."

"It's not a request. It's a requisition." The temperature in the room drops before Odin even finishes his sentence. Ice forms on the floor, spiraling out in sickly patterns. It's illuminated by my own light that betrays my fear. I remove my gaze from the floor, knowing that if something happens, I want to be ready.

"You can't have her. I won't allow it." I realize that the whole room is just at tense as I am. The guards are holding their weapons tighter, Thor's fists are clenched, and Loki makes eye contact with me, one arm behind his back like he's about to draw a knife.

"There's no need for a scene, Eldmara," the woman in gold says. I think she must be the queen by the way she handles the situation. "You can't possibly think it would end well. We have the right to requisition any resource or personnel for royal expeditions for up to a year. Besides, it looks like the 'training' you've put her through has been… ineffectual. For an expedition of this caliber, she'll need proper army training, so we'll already return her in better condition than you left her." The queen manages to diffuse, placate, and insult Eldmara in one go. There is one last tense moment before the ice disappears and everyone relaxes.

"Very well. I suppose some time here might do her some good. I'll leave her with you." She shoots me one last glare before stalking off. Everyone relaxes a little bit me. I wait for the other shoe to drop, for her to turn around and blast everyone with ice and rage. She doesn't. She takes Mina and leaves, and I turn my back on the king to watch them as they disappear out of sight.

"She threw less of a tantrum than I expected," the queen remarks.

"Yes, well, I still think this was unnecessary," Odin replies, and I turn back to them, unsure of what to do. I'm still on edge, and even more confused. Why would they risk my mistress's anger if the king of Asgard thought it was unnecessary? It didn't bode well. "She's your responsibility, Loki, as you requested." That doesn't sound good either. "Come Thor, we need to discuss other… accomodations for the trip." Thor looks likes he wants to stay, but he follows his father out of the room.

Loki and the queen descend the steps of the dais and come toward me. I give them another bow, unsure of the etiquette, of everything really. The queen has a pleasant smile on her face, but Loki glares at the hallway behind me as they approach, only shifting his gaze to me right before they reach me.

"What did she do to you?" I wince at his words, his anger a tone I am all too familiar with. I assume a position of defense on instinct, shoulders hunched, head down, braced for impact. It doesn't come. Instead there is a gentle touch on my arm.

"Oh, dear, it must be much worse than we feared." It's the queen, and the kindness in her eyes let me relax a little. "It's ok. You're safe here, we won't hurt you. I'm Frigga, and I'm afraid I can't stay, but you can trust us." Then, to Loki, "Don't press her, she's been through a lot and she'll tell us when she's ready." She walks away without another word.

"I'm sorry," Loki says. "I didn't realize… Come, you should see a healer." He goes to guide me by the elbow, or perhaps put an arm around my shoulder, but decided against it. He still looked angry, but it was controlled now. We walk down the hallway in silence for a little bit before he speaks again. "You don't have to be silent, you know. Eldmara may not have welcomed questions, but I do. You must have many."

I realize, with a start, that I don't know if I trust him. He answered my question before, but he didn't try to save me from my mistress, even though he must have known that Eldmara's intentions were to hurt me. This could all be a ruse to break me further. No. No, I didn't believe that. Still, all that questions had brought me so far were pain. There was only one way I'd know for sure that I wasn't in the same position as before, and that was to ask anyway. So I didn't hold back.

"Why didn't you stop Eldmara from taking me before? You knew I'd been kidnapped, and I thought you wanted to help, but you let her take me. I know we're not on Earth anymore, but what kind of place lets people get away with kidnapping and torturing kids?" I immediately regret the venom in my voice, waiting for the ice that always comes when I forget to hold my tongue. Nothing happens. It takes Loki a long moment to reply.

"I did want to help you, but I couldn't just take you away just like that." He paused. "Eldmara is… an anomaly in the court. Honestly, we've been trying to find a way to bring her down for longer than I've been alive. She's the only High Priestess of the Cults that's still around, a fact attributed to that enchanted headdress she wears. That's what fuels her ice abilities. It makes her difficult to control by force, which means we have to do it through politics. Unfortunately, she also refutes the newer laws banning slavery and interrupting apprenticeships, and we can't stop her without a large enough force, which would have to include the combined effort of the royal family, something we normally couldn't risk. When you came to court, I thought it might give us the opening we need, but I had to do some planning before we made a move. I am sorry it took so long."

It was a lot to process, and I didn't understand most of it, but I understood why he'd been so angry. He thought my pain was his fault. I relaxed ever so slightly, starting to believe him when he said I wasn't in any more danger.

"However, Eldmara can't ignore an official requisition order, it's an old enough law that she'd feel politically weak subverting it. I'm a little surprised, we had more of a case prepared had she argued it, but she folded, perhaps a little too easily." He looked worried for a second, then shook his head. "Don't worry about it though, we'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

I wasn't especially worried about Eldmara at the moment, something else he said peaked my interest.

"So I'm a slave?" It wasn't a new concept, I had just realized that there was legal power behind it. Loki's face dropped, and I knew he was trying to soften the blow.

"While in Eldmara's…" He struggles to find the right word. "...jurisdiction, yes. Midgardians have different legal rights now, but to her, they don't have any. You are property to her." This is said with vehement anger, but changes to equally potent insistence. "But that changes while you are here. We're not yet in a position to free you, but your official status in Asgard starting now is a ward of the state. Technically, my ward."

I chew on that, trying to decide how much I trust him. I desperately want to, everything he's told me is in line with what I've observed. It's just so hard to to believe that people care. Given what I've been through the last two months, I doubt that anyone could care enough to risk angering someone as powerful as Eldmara. Everyone I'd met had tried to appease her. She was destruction incarnate, and it was a miracle I wasn't still in her grasp. And for what? It dawned on me. I was to be Loki's and Asgard's tool, just as I'd been Eldmara's slave and Sakaar's entertainment.

Apparently, I don't have to respond. We've reached our destination as Loki guides me into a darker room with torches lining the wall. There's a group of women in grey uniforms gathered around a table, not unlike the altar in the temple. I stiffen a little bit, but I allow Loki to guide me to it.

"Sit up here," one of the women says. I try to follow the command, but the table is just barely too high for me to get up on my own. Hands on my waist boost me up, but before I even get seated, Loki has backed away, almost to the wall. The women (doctors? healers?) have little computer screens that they push close to my body in all different places. I think they must be scanning me, but it makes me nervous.

"Can you give me a description of your injuries?" I have to swallow before I can answer. The part of me that has been beaten into submission by Eldmara doesn't want to reveal anything, fearing retribution. But I also want to feel better.

"I'm cut up all over, but mostly on my back. I think some ribs are broken." I realized as I spoke that I didn't really know the full extent of my injuries. I felt them, but it was difficult to remember all the injuries I had sustained and which pain came from which.

"Oh my. We will need to do a full body scan then. Lie back for me." I lay down, still uncomfortable. My heart starts to beat a little bit faster, and I glow a little bit brighter.

A reddish-orange light appears above me, for a second taking the shape of my body, before it becomes a fuzzy and indistinct blob. The women frowns and uses her fingers to manipulate lines and dials of light in the air next to me. The body reappears, and I realize that it's my body before it fades again. My heart beats even faster. I realize that the discomfort doesn't come from the similarity to the altar room in the temple, but to the numberless hospital rooms that I saw my mother in during the various stages of her cancer. I start to shake a little, and the display above goes haywire.

"Miss, I need you to calm down. We can't get a clear picture if you're agitated, it makes your abilities tamper with the soul forge." I try to calm down, to steady my heart and the frantic energy I feel coming off me, but I can't. I close my eyes and I see scan and needles and I can smell the sterile hospital smell even in these stone walls. I can't do it.

"Can you give us the room?" Loki's voice is quiet, like he's trying not to be heard, but there's no other noise in the room, so I hear him easy. "I think I can talk her down." There's a chorus of "yes, Your Majesty" and I watch the last of them leave the room as I sit up.

"I'm sorry," I don't know why I'm apologizing except that I don't know what else to do. "I…" I don't know how to explain it.

"What's wrong?"

I take a deep breath, my heart still racing, light still glowing, and now tears threatening. "It reminds me of the hospital." I pause and he waits. My voice is small when I start again, and I stare at the floor, unable to meet his gaze. "My mom had cancer. She spent a lot of time in the hospital, and I visited her a lot. I actually had to be quarantined once because of an accident and…. all the machines and the being examined and not knowing what's going on… they just freak me out."

Loki gives a small smile, of all things, then nods. "Ignorance is often the root of most fears." He walks closer and picks up a screen from the side table before coming to join me where I sit on the table. "This is a vitals monitor. When they scanned you, it attuned itself to your body and can relay simple information like heart rate, blood pressure, life force, brain activity, and the like." He sets it back on the table and points to the one I'm sitting on. "This is a soul forge, it transfers molecular energy from one place to another." I stare at him blankly. "It's like a three dimensional mirror. It mimics your body with light based on the energy from inside your own body. We can see what's happening inside of you, from infections to internal injuries. Your abilities act up when your agitated?" I nod. "The excess of energy is difficult for the machine to handle, especially with how dynamic it is. Did that help?"

"Yes" I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding in. It makes more sense now, and I start to relax.

"Do you think we can try again?"

"Yeah." He goes to fetch the healers, and comes back to stand by me. I lay back down on the table, my light dim and the rest of me calm. A hand holds mine.

"I'll be right here." The machine starts up again and comes into focus, allowing the the healer's to do their work without interference. They work their way through my body, cataloging the injuries and making plans to deal with them. I'm still not sure I understand everything they tell me, but Loki does, and his jaw tightens with anger again.

"Overall, there's less damage than I expected." The women doesn't look cheerful, but suspicious. "Actually, there's less damage than there should be. You've clearly had injuries that haven't healed but are less than they should be, especially for a Midgardian. I'm going to take a blood sample." I tense a little bit, but Loki squeeze my hand and I relax. She puts a box-like device on my arm, but I don't feel a needle, just a little bit of pressure. There's no hole when she pulls it off, and we wait in silence.

"Interesting." The healer murmurs, more to herself than anything.

"What?" Loki asks. The light from the soul forge changes from a view of my body to several different display, and I sit up to take a better look at them. There's a string of DNA, I think, and some words in a script I don't recognize.

"See this section here? It's not consistent with our data on Midgardian biology. It's extra coding, but very subtle, and not recent, likely inherited. There's trace of a trigger too, some of these genes used to be dormant. The extra bases and the pattern… it looks Kree." The healer looks bewildered. A faint memory is triggered in my head.

"Eldmara," I said, and everyone's attention turns to me. "When they put the fire in me, she said I'd been 'strengthened by Kree treachery' or something. What's Kree?"

"The Kree are a cruel race of beings that like to experiment on others to fuel their empire. We'd heard rumors that they'd been experimenting on humans, but we hadn't had proof before." Loki answers, intrigued. I process what that means fairly quickly.

"Aliens? Aliens experimented on humans?" I'm dismayed for a second, and then more puzzle pieces fall into place. "Wait… When I was 12, my dad had this box, and we were alone, and he threw it at the wall, and this smoke came out, and then this rock covered me like a cocoon, and after that… I was stronger than my dad, and I didn't get cold or hot very easily." I know I should tell them about the hospital too, but everyone is staring at me again, and I've lost my nerve. It doesn't matter. The healer nods and starts talking instead.

"The new coding does look like it would create more resilient cells than a normal Midgardian's. It explains the wounds, and also why you're not as volatile as we assumed you'd be. The Eternal Flame is difficult to control, but if the vessel housing it was fortified against denaturation and promoted stability, it would grant you some innate control over its natural state of chaos." She's started to lose me again, and I start to realize how tired I am.

"Not to just take this new information for granted, but I think your focus should be on her injuries, Lady Eir." Loki must have noticed my drooping shoulders.

"Of course, Your Highness. I don't think she'll much more than a week in the infirmary, and then she'll be ready for training." Eir left us to rustle through a cabinet of medical supplies.

"I can't stay, but I'll come check on you later." Loki squeezed my hand again. "With all that we've just discovered, I must confer with my mother. Get some rest." He doesn't wait for a response, which is good, because I'm not sure what to say. The subject had been changed very abruptly, and I wasn't sure why.

But before I knew it, Loki was already gone, and I was left to ponder the new developments. As my wounds were treated, I came to two conclusions. The first was that no matter what happened to me now, it couldn't be worse than what Eldmara had done to me.

I also decided that, at least for now, I was going to trust Loki.


	8. Misguided Ghosts

Age 18

Northern Arizona

I breathe in the fresh air, letting myself relax. I focused on the wind on my face, the cool rock beneath me, and the sounds of nature. I didn't think about the disaster that was school, or the lingering longing for Asgard, or the grief that still ached after almost two years. It was just me and the world.

And the rock that hits me in the shoulder.

"Come on fart nugget," Ty yells at me. "We're almost to the lake." I sigh, scooping up a pebble from the ground and flicking it at my brother, just barely hard enough to make contact. I follow him back to the trail, and we fall in line behind Ben and my dad.

I'd been home from Asgard for a little over a year. It had been difficult adjusting, but after telling my dad most of what happened, we'd come up with a suitable cover story about having been kidnapped and escaped. For convenience's sake, I also had "amnesia" about the time I'd been away, so no one would ask.

School had been the biggest struggle. I'd been halfway through 7th grade when I was kidnapped, and I'd returned the summer before what should've been my senior year of high school. After a slew of aptitude tests, it became my freshman year, meaning that Ty was a year ahead of me and Ben and I had three classes together.

I reconnected with my friends, but it was hard for me to fall back into the life I'd once lived after all I'd been through. They had new inside jokes and could drive and were unencumbered by the horrors I'd both witnessed and committed. I'd made new friends too, but they were young freshmen in my classes, a wide-eyed, constant reminder of my stolen youth.

I'd made it to the end of April before having a total mental breakdown. Fortunately, I'd made it outside before igniting anything, and it was Arizona, so the grass was dead anyway. After I cried myself out, Dad packed up the car and the boys, called the school to excuse us, and we went camping. The fresh air was working it's magic, and I felt better, even though I knew the relief was temporary.

We reached the lake and set up the fishing stuff. I'd gone fishing as a child and we'd attempted to fish in the Niflheim rivers, but neither time had been successful.

"You're not afraid of the worm are you?" I ask Ben as he gingerly picks a worm out of the container.

"No," he says, before dropping it. I chuckle at him. We manage to get all the lines baited and set, and the wait in silence is renewing. Even though it's almost May, the weather is cool for Arizona, and the sun is kind. Despite both that and the fact that I can no longer sunburn, I still remind the boys to reapply sunscreen. We catch a couple of small fries that have to be let go, but end up with four good size ones to eat. The hike back to camp is pleasant, and the sun starts to set just as we arrive, painting the sky in rose gold and lavender. It's soothing, and I don't realize that I've zoned out until my dad starts to talk.

"Has anyone seen the lighter fluid? Anyone?"

"Why do you need lighter fluid?" I ask.

"To start a fire." I stare at him blankly. Without speaking, I grab an armful of firewood, not kindling, just straight logs and drop them into the fire pit. Then I summon a handful of fire and set the logs alight. They don't catch easily, but I force it, and soon there's a roaring fire.

"Ta-Da." I deadpan. "Fire."

"I'll never get used to that." My dad shakes his head. He gets the same look of concern he always gets when I use my powers, not that he's scared of me, but that he doesn't like being reminded that I spent the last five years in a variety of dangerous places.

He teaches us how to gut the fish. Despite having trouble with the worm earlier, Ben doesn't seem to have a problem with pulling out the guts. Ty does, but thought he's clearly nauseous, he pushes through. I handle the knife and the guts easily, and try not to think about why that is. Soon the fish are on a pan in the fire, and all that remains of the sun is faint streaks of orange in the sky.

"Tell us a story," Ty requests. "Tell us about an adventure." I think for a second, trying to find a story that doesn't involve too much violence or painful memories.

"Ok, so picture this. 15-year-old me, four weeks into trying to make peace in Alfheim, and we're still attempting diplomacy. Actually this mission was the reason we had to quit that approach, but I'd like to preface this by saying that it wasn't our fault."

"Sure," Ty mocks.

"Shut up. Anyway, we head to these two villages, and they've had a rivalry going for centuries. Something about some artifact that they both claim the other stole, but neither has. So we split up to see if we can't get them to at least agree to talk to each other. So Loki and I go to one, and Thor, Sif, and Fandral go to the other. Volstagg, Hogun, and Tyr have stayed behind with the army. Loki and I go meet with the leaders, and they sound like reasonable people. They really hate the other guys, but we convince them that it's worth it to at least meet with the rival leaders and talk."

"This story is boring," Ben interjects.

"It's about to get good," I promise. "So these two villages are set up on two sides of this big grassy plain. We take the leaders from our tribe out to the middle of it, in the spirit of compromise and neutral territory. Thor's group hasn't arrived yet and we're starting to get worried. Suddenly, we are surrounded by rival troops. We're unarmed, the village leaders are unarmed, but now they're pissed. They're screaming at us about a trap, and Loki and I have no idea what to do. We all get taken prisoner and taken back to the other village, and Thor and his group are nowhere to be seen. They start making demands, the leaders we talked to won't stop yelling at long enough to listen, and Loki and I are just confused. So I do the only thing I can think of, and I steal all the flame from the room so no one can see. I glow, so everyone has to look at me, and I demand to know where Thor is. They go, 'Oh you mean those Asgardians? We told them that we needed a favor before we listened to anything they had to say, and we sent them to capture a giant boar to distract them while we attacked.' So now we have no backup, and I've got to figure out how to get me, Loki, and our village leaders out without anybody dying. It's easier now that nobody is yelling, and Loki convinces them that it's not worth it to start a war, because then the Asgardians would have to get involved and nobody wants that. They agree, we make it to the clearing, and one of our village leaders turns to the enemy and says, 'I hate you, but I think I'm starting to hate the Asgardians more, how about we band together, kill these two, and go attack their army while we have the advantage?' The other guys agree on the basis that they can go back to hating each other after we've stopped meddling, and Loki and I are cornered, totally alone, and discussing how best to kill Thor if we ever get out of this. The villages are about to attack us, and lo and behold, Thor, Sif, and Fandral ride in on a giant boar. And I mean GIANT, like, as big as an elephant. Everyone goes dead silent, and the leader of the village that told Thor to go on the quest asked him where in Hel he'd actually found a giant boar because they don't actually live in these woods. Thor just shrugs. We think we might be able to salvage this, but next thing we know, it doesn't matter that we have a giant boar helping us fight, the people decide that they don't want our interference and are chasing us out of their five of us rode into camp on a giant boar, and according to Volstagg, it was the least graceful and majestic thing that he'd ever seen. Hounded us for weeks about how stupid we looked. The army ended up stepping in to stop the villages from attacking us, so we lost all diplomatic credit and had to start using force. It was the most disastrous mission I've ever been on." I finish my story as my dad pulls the fish off the fire. The boys give some laughs, which make me feel better, because I wasn't sure the story was that great.

We eat in silence, staring up at the stars starting to appear, and I wonder where Thor is now. Probably Asgard, since I doubt the Bifrost has been fixed. I wonder if I can see any of the places I've been in the sky, or if they are too far away. We spend the rest of the night roasting marshmallows and playing games. I show the boys shapes in the fire, and explain that flames have tides too, just smaller and more erratic. As I fall asleep, I realize that for once, I feel like nothing is wrong.

That feeling dissipates once we turn on the radio the next morning, about a half an hour into our drive home.

"...the attack is unknown, though scientists have confirmed that the attackers are not human. It appears that none of the alleged aliens are alive, having collapsed after the portal above Stark Tower in New York disappeared. The attack is a frightening tragedy, the casualty count is already in the hundreds and more bodies are being found as cleanup begins. The destruction is even worse than the incident in Harlem two years ago that also involved the creature known as the Hulk. Tony Stark's Iron Man was also seen battling the invaders, as well as Captain America, but the investigation into the attack continues…"

"What the…" Ben pipes up, but I shush him. It doesn't matter, the broadcaster wraps up, promising updates as they get more information, and the station goes back to playing music. We shuffle through other local radio stations, but not many of them are reporting or have much more information, and we drive the rest of the way home with an incomplete picture of the tragedy on the other side of the country.

I'm already denying that Thor or Asgard was involved before we reach the driveway. I reason that they would've tried to contact me, or the reporters would've definitely mentioned an attractive blonde summoning lightening with a hammer. Not to mention that I didn't think that the Bifrost was fixed yet.

Ben turns the TV on while we unpack, and the news channels help fill in the gaps. I have Ty pull up more news on his computer. It's worse than I feared, and my agitation is clearly shared by the rest of my family, but for different reasons.

A tear in the sky over New York, a portal, unleashing alien invaders, fought by a small team of misfit heroes. It had been a shock to come home and realize that the world I'd left behind was not as safe as I'd assumed, but it was a different thing altogether to see it on TV. I'd grown up learning about Captain America, and I'd learned about how Iron Man and the Hulk had emerged while I'd been gone. Now they were all working together, along with a few others. Reports showed a redheaded woman taking on aliens with some wicked martial arts moves, and a man with an actual bow and arrows, and some theories linked them to SHIELD, a secret intelligence agency that was coming out of the shadows.

All of this was both cool and concerning, but not as much as the last member of the "team." It was Thor, there was no doubt about it, even if the reporters weren't calling him by name. Who else wears a red cape and wields lightning? Thor had been here, on Midgard, and hadn't even tried to contact me. One of my best friends… I stopped my thoughts in their tracks. I couldn't take it personally. I had been the one to tell Odin that I was done with the Asgardian army after all. Thor was here for a purpose, and I definitely didn't rank above alien invaders. I wrapped all my hurt feelings up with a bow and set them aside, letting the soldier in me take charge and think about the situation logically.

Which was good because the next thing I learned just about broke my heart. One of the reporters was talking about Thor, and they showed footage, shot from someone's phone, of him fighting someone in green on the balcony of Stark Tower. It's grainy, but I can't help but think that it's Loki, my Loki. The reporter continues, linking him to an attack in Germany the day before the one in New York. They show more footage, clearer and closer, and I gasp. My family turns to look at me.

I don't respond to them, not when there's a ghost, plain as day, onscreen. I run my thumb over the gem on my necklace, trying to make sense of something, anything. It looks like him.

But he was dead, lost to the abyss I'd watched him fall myself, felt the promise stone crack, mourned him...

The promise stone! I hear his voice in my memory as I undo the clasp and peer into the dark, clear jade.

 _I promise that I will find you, elskan. And I will always protect you, I promise._

Besides the old crack running from the top and diagonally to the left, the promise stone is intact. Loki promised to find me, and if that green figure was him, the stone should've cracked. But it didn't. It wasn't him, not matter the resemblance.

"Ally," my dad breaks through my train of thought, "do you know them?" I realize they've all been staring at me, not just because probably look maniacal, but because there's steam curling off of me, and I'm glowing. I dim and cool as I answer.

"Thor's from Asgard, he's a prince, and a good friend." My voice is shaky; I'm almost surprised I was able to find it.

"What about the other one?"

"I don't know." They don't believe me. "A monster," I offer. "Wearing the face of a dead friend." It still sounds unconvincing, but make my face composed and stern. They don't press me. It's the story I'm going with.

It's the story I tell myself when I wake up for weeks in cold sweat after the nightmares start up again. It's the story that I convince myself to believe, even though it gives me no peace. It's the story I'm still telling myself when Sif and Mina show up at my door just months later.


	9. Faith

Age 16

Royal Palace, Asgard

"Oh look, it's the prince's whore." I stiffen as I hear the words, walking faster down the hallway. I was already nervous about the ball tonight, and I didn't need the nobility to unsettle me more. But what the gossipers say next makes me stop cold. "It's not enough for him to bed her, he has to own her now too. Poor thing." I know I should just walk away. I shouldn't let them bother me, but it was Mari who spoke, and she had a way of getting under my skin.

"Excuse you?" I turn and ask. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, she doesn't know!" Mari exclaimed with fake sympathy, her sycophants tittering with equally fake laughter. "Word's gotten around, honey. Prince Loki has intentions to make you his consort tonight at the ball." She frowns. "You probably don't even know what that means, do you?"

I don't, and it doesn't sound good, but Mari is the last person I would ask. I don't know if the rumor is true, but I have to get out of this conversation so I can go talk to Loki. I say the first thing that comes into my mind.

"I think it means you're jealous." I put as much sarcasm as I can into my voice before heading back down the hallway, tuning out any response. My stomach twists into knots as my brain decides to replay the conversation. Consort? I didn't like the sound of that. Despite what Mari and the others said, Loki and I weren't intimate, I was 16 and he, unlike them, respected me. Still, it was unsettling that these rumors had gotten this out of control.

I reach his quarters and knock on the door. Asp opens it, his eyes glinting and a slight smile on his face. There was one piece of the puzzle, at least. Loki's valet was definitely one for gossip, and he didn't bat an eye at revealing things that had been said in confidence.

"Lady Ally is here to see you, m'lord." Asp announced me as I strode into the room. Loki was lounging, because he never just sat, and was reading a book.

"Can I talk to you?" I ask, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice. He picks up on it anyway, shooting me a frown as he sits up. "Alone." I nod my head just slightly at Asp.

Loki dismisses Asp as he stands and walks over to me, concern on his face. My irritation melts into chagrin. "What's wrong?"

"I ran into Mari in the hallway and," I bite my lip, before strengthening my resolve… but it fades again. "What's a consort?" I feel stupid asking.

"Oh," He becomes visibly uncomfortable. "What did Mari tell you?"

"Nothing really, but she didn't make it sound good." He gives a slow nod and takes a deep breath.

"A consort is generally the betrothed or espoused partner of a royal, before they receive a title of their own, if one is appropriate." His voice takes on that wise tone he uses to explain things to me. Though often welcome, it feels like a placation today. "Tonight, I planned on asking you to be my intended in such an arrangement." I struggle to process the words, not just because they are unfamiliar, but because they are so detached in his tone.

"Betrothed? Like engaged to be married?" I punctuate each word with incredulity. "What…?" He cuts me off.

"Please, Ally, it's not like that. I mean, it is, but that wasn't my intention. You're free now, officially, but your status in the court is tenuous. You don't have a noble title, and you rank outside the normal military structure."

"I'm well aware that I'm a societal outcast, Loki."

"If you accepted my proposal, it would put you higher than everyone in court but the royal family. You'd be protected, no one would dare…."

"Dare what?" I question, furious and confused. "You think that because you slap a ring on my finger, Mari and the rest of them are going to stop calling me a whore behind your back? That they'll just magically be my friend?" I paused, knowing that I shouldn't take it further, but I was so… angry. Did he really think this was going to change anything? "You think that if you make it official, they'll stop painting slurs and obscenities on my wall the next time we leave the city?"

I hadn't told him when it had happened, I'd been to afraid that he'd do something like, well, like what he was doing now. Penit, my handmaid, and I had cleaned my room ourselves, and I'd sworn her to secrecy. However, it doesn't really seem to faze him.

"Ally, that's the whole point of this! You think I don't know how they treat you? I want to be able to hold them accountable. They deserve consequences." He looks at me pleadingly. Every argument I want to make, that I don't need his help, that he doesn't understand, that I don't want to get married, dies before it reached my lips. I don't know what to say.

"I…" My brain has to start over, reprocess everything I've just learned. I understand him; I know he's just trying to protect me, to fulfill his promise, but some strong part of me holds out. "I'm not ready for… I can't…" I don't even know what I'm trying to say.

Loki walks over to me, gently taking both of my hands. "Ally, you know I love you. But you also know I would never ask you, let alone force you, to do anything that you're uncomfortable with. You don't have to say yes. I don't even need an answer right now, not even tonight at the ball." He pauses and lets go of one hand so he can cup my cheek. "But if you did, nothing would change unless you wanted it to. We wouldn't have to go through with a marriage; we could wait until you were ready. I just think that this is the best way to protect you."

"I…" I still don't know what to say, and now there's a lump in my throat from choking back tears I didn't realize were coming.

"Just think about it, please?" I nod, and for half a second I wait for him to leave me, until I realize that I am the one standing in his quarters.

"I will." I pull my hand away gently. "I'll see you tonight." I walk out of the room as calmly as I can, refusing to meet Asp's gaze as I walk into the hallway.

I find myself in Mina's empty room. I don't know where she is, but I needed someone to talk to, and I didn't think Frigga or Sif would be able to give me the perspective I needed, even if Mina and I didn't always see eye to eye. I decide to wait, taking a moment to compose myself.

Something on Mina's desk distracts me. It's her spellbook, open to a dog eared page. It's a memory spell, which isn't out of her specialty, but reading it sends a chill down my spine. Under the incantation it reads:

 _Erasing a subject's memory is virtually impossible. However, it is possible to make it irretrievable. This incantation, when performed properly, can lock away memories and make them unable to be called to remembrance. The spell must be completed in its entirety in order for the effects to be permanent, otherwise the subject will be able to eventually retrieve those memories. This spell can be used to lock a subject's entire memory, or a continuous segment working backwards from the time of casting. Length is influenced by control level of caster and available power. Will drain lifeforce if used alone, use highest level talismans available for requisite power._

I was horrified, but even more so at the notes in the margin, written in Mina's neat handwriting.

 _Use with reality modifier 7, extends base effects concerning subject to a city wide radius around casting, albeit at a lower ratio. Expected result: for every five years locked away in subject, one year of memories concerning subject are likewise forgotten. Requires charm to protect caster and others within radius that need to be protected. Effects may also be prevented by other interfering powers, see notes on Crest of Hagalaz. Also note that as a level 4 effect, memories lost within the radius are unlikely to be remembered, even if original subject does._

 _Use an additional modifier, preservation 4, to prevent subject's body from losing muscle memory and body function._

Who would do this to someone?

"Ally?" I know that it's Mina, but I can't tear my focus away from the spellbook.

"What is this?"

"A spell."

"What for? Why? Why would you do this to someone?" I feel sick to my stomach. Today is not a good day for paradigm-shifting revelations.

"What do you mean? It's for Eldmara," she huffs. "I've been trying to find ways to bring her down in case we can't kill her." Mina walks over to me, slightly defensive, but also worried.

"Oh." I take a deep breath. "That makes more sense." I want to say more, but I don't.

"Are you ok?" Mina asks.

"Not really. Loki wants me to be his consort." Mina looks at me questioningly, but I hesitate to elaborate. "He's going to ask me tonight, and he says he doesn't need an answer yet, but…"

"But you know that you should say no sooner than later." Mina says matter of factly. I stare at her, stunned.

"What?"

"Well, it's not like you're going to accept it."

"Wha..Uh… I… Why would I not accept it?"

"Because you just escaped from an abusive user who almost killed you and I would hope after that you'd be smart enough to not legally bind yourself to someone who is known for being manipulative and untrustworthy."

"Is that what you really think of him? He's not going to use me like Eldmara did, he's been nothing but kind since we met. He almost died trying to rescue me from her!" I try my best to not get worked up, but her words had cut deep. I knew she didn't like our relationship, but I had no idea that this was why.

"True as that may look, you'd be a fool to not see how similar the situation is. This is not a good idea Ally, that's all I'm saying."

"I love him." It came out quietly, but quickly, likely because I hadn't meant to say it at all. Mina softened, just a little, taking a deep breath and letting out slowly.

"I know. But that's not the question that you need to ask yourself. Now if you'll see yourself out, I have to prepare for the ball tonight." I didn't say anything as I left, I was too confused by what she had said. I went over it again in my head as I made my way to my room, realizing vaguely that I too had to get ready. But what question did I need to ask myself? What was more important that love?

The answer was in something else Mina had said, when she had compared Loki to Eldmara. She'd never doubted that I loved him.

But did I trust Loki?

Could I?

Asgard had a yearly festival at the beginning of spring to commemorate the end of winter (even though weather was pretty much the same all year round) and a clean start. It was tradition to make important announcements at the ball that kicked off the celebrations, and it was likely that Odin would officially announce Thor's impending coronation tonight. In hindsight, that was also probably why Loki would make his request tonight as well, so he didn't get hidden so much in Thor's shadow.

The other exciting part about the festival was the deviation from the standard Asgardian fashion of muted or jewel colors. The outfits today would be more akin to costumes; vibrant colors meant to represent the new growth of spring.

My gown was asymmetrical, the skirt higher on the left than the right. Royal blue and deep red bled from the hem upward in overlapping spikes. The dress was white in the rest of the skirt, as well as the bodice and left sleeve. The right sleeve was actually a gold cape that draped across my back and was held in the crook of my left elbow. Gold shoes and eyeshadow, and curled half-up hair completed the look, which only took about an hour for Penit to accomplish, something I appreciated. I spent the whole time trying to answer the question, but hadn't come up with an answer that felt right. I didn't know what I was going to do.

The ball started with a traditional dance, followed by a feast where the announcements would take place, and then less structured festivities long into the night. As I entered the Grand Hall, I found Loki and went to stand with him, as he was my dance partner, and I had procrastinated coming down at all. The dance was about to start, and we didn't have time to talk before taking our places on the dance floor.

I don't consider myself a great dancer, but I did enjoy it. There was something rewarding about doing difficult things with grace, and spinning and doing the steps in this dress made me feel like a princess. I found myself smiling despite my inner turmoil, until I realized that we were approaching the part of the dance that I only managed to pull off about one time out of every fifteen in practice. I panicked and missed a step before, falling out of the beat. I knew that I couldn't get back on time to finish the move, and I broke frame, looking at Loki in warning that we were about to wipeout in front of the whole court. He gave a little smile, shifted his grip, and lead me through the steps. We didn't wipeout, I didn't even trip or fall. If only I had trusted him, I knew that he would never have let me...oh.

Oh.

We finished the dance and my thoughts spin as we sat down at our places at the feast. I barely heard Odin's opening remarks or his announcement of Thor's coronation, to take place at the end of spring. I was stunned at my own self.

I didn't trust Loki when we were dancing, or earlier when I didn't understand what he was trying to do with asking me to be his consort. But that didn't make him untrustworthy. He was always going to catch me, but I had to let him. I had to make the choice to trust him, and I would do that because I loved him.

I am pulled back into the conversation when Loki stands, a smile on his face.

"At this time I would like to make a request of Lady Ally Pernix." I stand, facing him, not sure what my face looks like or if he has any idea what's been going through my mind. "For your consideration, would you do me the honor of an official courtship and becoming my intended consort?" Despite his earlier comment, it doesn't seem like a question I could answer later, not with Mari's and Mina's disapproving gazes burning into me from the audience.

"Prince Loki," my voice surprisingly clear and strong, "it would be my honor to accept your request." I curtsy, hoping I've remembered protocol correctly, then stand as the crowd cheers. Though Mina and Mari and her scions look displeased, everyone else seems delighted at the prospect. Thor and Frigga are beaming with joy, and Odin is even smiling as he pronounces his blessing on our courtship.

I am happy, and now I'm safe, and the future looks ripe with more of the same.


	10. I'm Not Laughing

Age 18

Mesa, Arizona

I catch the wad of paper before it reaches my head, my hand moving before I even have time to process it. I don't understand how I knew it was coming, then again, I don't understand a lot these days. Like sophomore chemistry, which I'm failing, and which I would be failing even if the kids in that class didn't bully me. I did surprise them with the catch though, and now there's even more hushed whispers with me at the center.

I ignore them, focusing on the diagram of molecules on the board. Mrs. Mayer does her best to explain nomenclature and how things are named, but I don't understand how it relates to the circles and lines already on the board, and she looks confused herself. I used to really like science, but my last year of school that I can remember is 7th grade. Don't ask me how I passed the benchmarks to get into sophomore year, because I really don't know. Or maybe I just don't remember. Science has tried very hard to explain me since I got back, yet I still remember nothing. Grandma says it will come, but she gets a strange far away look when she does, like she can only barely remember herself.

The bell rings, cutting Mrs. Mayer short. She didn't finish her lesson, which is fine, because I'll fail the test anyway. For a second, I have a faint feeling of someone chiding me for thinking negatively, but it disappears before I can focus on it.

All the classes I hate, I have in a row: math, chemistry, and everyone's favorite: PE. Yay. I mentally prepare myself in the locker room before opening my locker, changing out the relative safety of my long sleeved shirt and jeans for the creepy fire powers exposing gym clothes. Again, yay. I almost puke when we reach the gym because Coach Van starts handing out papers immediately after pressing play on the PACER test. We have less than thirty seconds to find a partner and line up before that god awful sound sends us off to our doom.

I have never made it more than 20 laps, which is a little below average for any other school, but Desert Mountain Desert High School is a athletics-focused school, so we are going to be here all hour so the four track stars in my class can run their 85-100 laps and over inflate their egos. My partner goes first, tapping out at 25 laps, which I applaud her for, just not out loud because being a legal adult still in high school isn't great for making friends. The highest one in the first group gets to 75 before giving up. There is no escape.

I take my place at the start line, between record holders for the 800m and 400m. The voiceover starts us and I run, wondering how long I can go before it's not shameful to drop out. I try to drown out the beeps, running mindless like the rest of my classmates. I approach what I think is the 20 mark, but I'm not really tired, or even out of breath. I consider stopping, but I feel an urge to keep going. A memory almost… I push myself, hoping it will come to me. I chase after it, going lap after laps but not processing the others dropping out. I can see in my mind dark fog, curling mist, and the outline of a face. Just when I think that I can reach it, everything goes dark. I stop in the middle of a lap, pulled back to the present, realizing I'm the only one still running. I winded, but not finished, I could've easily kept going, except that I'm parched. And glowing. And being stared at.

"How many laps?" Coach Van asks my partner. I just stand there, stunned, trying to take deep breaths and not run out the door in embarrassment.

"174" Coach shrugs, says something about a new record, and the class moves on. I stand there in the middle of the gym, bearing a couple death glares and weird looks before it empties. I follow them out to the hallway, but not out to the field, instead parking it in front of the drinking fountain, alternating between gulping down water and gasping for oxygen.

I try to remember what I had seen, but I can't. I am met with the same mental nothing as when I try to remember anything from the years I'm missing. It's as if whatever happened to cause my amnesia happened again just by thinking about memories I'd lost. There's just nothing.

When Grandma asks how school was, I tell her about chemistry and not understanding it, but nothing else. There's no point in trying to explain the PACER, even when the score shows up in my grades a week later, because there's no explanation for it, except that the kids at school must be right. I'm a freak.


	11. Numb

Age 13

Temple of Hagalaz, Asgard

"Enough!" Eldmara's voice cuts deeper than the punch that just knocked me to the floor. I gasp for breath but feel only pain. "You're pathetic! A waste of space! You should be ashamed!" I don't hear her approach, but I can feel the temperature drop. I want to curl into a ball, but there's no oxygen to move my limbs. Icy tendrils pull me into a kneeling position, half a mercy and half a terror. At least now I can breathe, but the cold saps at my already depleted strength, and I have to look at Eldmara's face, twisted with rage. The same rage that she's been feeding for two weeks now as she sends goons to beat on me, expecting a 13 year old girl to be able to take them down with nothing more than a handful of flame. Talk about stupidity. Or insanity. Whatever.

"You hold the pride of Muspelheim in your veins! This power has slayed gods! Where is your fire?" Last week I sassed back. This week I got my first broken rib, er, ribs. No more sarcasm for me. Eldmara pauses in her tirade and I try not to shiver. I think she's getting an idea, which, news flash, won't end well for me.

The ice dissolves and I drop to the floor, losing my access to air again. There's never water when the ice disappears, it doesn't melt, just fades to mist. The silence drags and I gain enough strength to sit up. The "practice room" is dark as always, but I can make out Mina and the most recent mindless muscle to whip me into shape.

"Pack up. We're leaving." I can tell everyone in the room wants to ask where, but none of us do. It doesn't faze Eldmara, who doesn't need any audience but herself. "Since there clearly isn't enough motivation here for the girl, it's time I visit an old friend. Mina, tell Runa I need her to prepare for departure. We're going to Sakaar."

I'd gotten used to being scrutinized by Eldmara, but the way this man, the Grandmaster, was looking at me sent chills down my spine. I could read hunger and intrigue in his expression.

"And you're sure she'll pose a threat? Because she looks like she'd fit better in some gold and glitter than in the ring." If there was anything in my stomach, I'd throw it up. I might be young, but I'm not oblivious.

"That's the problem." Eldmara's no nonsense attitude is a stark contrast to the Grandmaster's laidback tone. "This girl holds an ancient and honored power in her veins and I cannot have her mistaken for a... showgirl. Either she learns to fight in your ring and gains the reputation she needs as a weapon, or she dies in it and I can bond the Eternal Flame to someone stronger."

The Grandmaster looks like he's considering it. "You know, you would look good in gold and glitter too." I tense, my light flickering fast enough to cause a seizure. Nobody disrespects Eldmara, it's the first thing you learn if you want to live.

But Eldmara does nothing but glare,and drop the temperature in the room even more, and it occurs to me that she has less power here. Less authority. She is not the most important one in the room, and whatever sway the Grandmaster holds is enough to hold her back, meaning I'm in even more danger than I thought.

"But the Eternal Flame… I've seen that power in action. What the hell! I'll give her a shot!" He pats my cheek and I flinch, but he doesn't seem to care. "Besides, what's more fun than seeing children get murdered? She can start tonight, but first you'll have to take her to the tailor."

"The tailor."

"Yes, the tailor. You might have style, but she doesn't."

Turns out I don't like the Grandmaster's idea of "style." Half an hour later I'm dressed in a long sleeve red jumpsuit that only comes to mid thigh. The rest of my legs are bare and I'm wearing a thick pair of lace up boots. And to top it off, I'm also clad in a very glittery gold bra that is maybe armor in the loosest sense.

I don't feel comfortable, but for the moment, I'll take it, because I'm no longer under Eldmara's supervision. How much it must say about my regular situation to be relieved to be sitting in a group cell surrounded by prisoners who I'll probably fight to the death later on.

I listen to the sounds of fighting in the distance. The fights have already started, and I can hear screams of pain and the roar of the crowd. It's brutal, so different from the relative silence of my regular fights to the death. I don't know when my turn is. I don't know if I only have to fight once or if I have to keep going.

But I'm not scared, not yet. I can't afford to be scared.

One fight ends, and when the guards return to fetch more fighters, I'm escorted into another room with more than half the prisoners. The room is full of weapons. I've never been allowed weapons, even when fighting against them. I look around, but no one is there to tell me no. There is the slight problem of not knowing how to use any of these, but I'm not going in there unarmed. I shove a knife in my boot and I grab a long metal staff, hoping I can use the long reach to keep my opponent away from me. That's all I have time to grab before all of us, about 15, are moved into the arena. They don't separate us. We are all fighting each other.

I don't wait for instructions, as soon as we are free from the guards, I put as much distance between me and the others as possible. The announcer's voice is unintelligible from the field, but I can hear enough to know that the battle has started.

Now I'm scared. I have no idea what I'm doing. I can sit here and wait, like I would facing Eldmara's goons. Or I can attack first. That's why I'm here, isn't it? To make a statement?

I'd later learn that the first rule of battle is to never hesitate. Today, however, I do not know that. A blow from behind knocks me to the ground because I'm not paying attention. I get up as fast as I can, bring my staff up to block the sword headed to my face. Toy lightsabers duels with little brothers apparently did not prepare me to deal with real swords. The impact hurts my hands and I almost drop my staff.

I move backwards and swing the staff like a bat. My attacker catches it with one arm and yanks, ripping it from my grip. Now he's holding a staff, and a two-handed sword, because the dude has three arms. I'm not stupid enough to think that my boot knife is big enough to take down a much larger opponent, so I don't take it out. Instead, I light myself on fire.

I'm not sure I'll ever get used to the sensation of being on fire. It doesn't hurt, it feels like every cell in my body has to be in motion all the time. Like I'll die if I'm not moving. I've learned exactly one trick: channeling giant waves of fire in a general direction. Usually, my opponents are ready for it, had shields or whispered incantations to counter me. This guy had no idea what was coming for him.

I've never heard a grown man scream in pain, and it shakes me to the core. I caused that. I watch in horror as he collapses, and the feeling deepens when the crowd cheers for me.

I caught others in the fire wave too, and some of them are only a little singed, and very pissed. I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know what I'm doing. They're all coming at me and I don't know what I'm doing.

Stupidity and desperation for a weapon drive me forward instead of back. I grab my staff from where it lies, red hot. I keep heating it, thinking that they won't want to grab it if it's hot. The effort covers in flame. That's about as far as my plan goes.

Something in my brain shuts down, and I'm no longer thinking, just reacting. I send waves of fire in every direction, but it doesn't take all of them down. I use the staff to guard myself as best I can, but I can't defend against them all. It's a living nightmare, worse than everything Eldmara has ever thrown at me. The worst part being that I'm still alive.

I manage to put some distance between myself and who ever is left. I come back to semi-awareness, the fear and horror sinking back into my soul. I think there are maybe three besides me, but there's so much smoke and ash on the field that I can't tell. I also have a rapidly swelling black eye that's making vision difficult, and a slew of other injuries that are presenting a challenge for standing.

My staff is no longer useful for anything but a bludgeon. It's not even entirely solid where my hands hold it, but like putty. Whatever it is, I've melted it. The crowd is still cheering, chanting something that I can't quite make out.

Just when I come to the conclusion that any more fighting will likely kill me, a voice sounds over the roar of the crowd. "Well, that was entertaining. Way to go, guys, you really surprised me!" It's the Grandmaster, sounding like he's just watched a comedy show. "We'll see you again next week. I'm thinking a tournament."

I don't know how to respond to that, I don't really believe that it's over, not even when others show up to drag carcasses off the field. The crowd is still screaming, and I can finally make out what they're saying.

Holocaust.

I'm not stupid, I knows they must mean me. But it doesn't sink in, doesn't feel real, until I'm standing in Eldmara's cold shadow. She's smiling.

"Well done, my dear. It looks like you'll make something of yourself yet."


	12. Under Pressure

Age 14

Niflheim

The mist is eerie, folding in on itself over and over again, uncontrollable. Over a month on Niflheim and I still can't get used to it, especially not while on watch, on my own, in the middle of the night. Every swirl looks like a monster and it takes all my training to not jump at every shadow. We haven't seen any draugr in days, which sounds good, but more likely means they're waiting to attack in larger forces.

At least we've arrived. Right before nightfall (or when the mists grow even darker since there's no sun that reaches this realm) we caught sight of our destination, the easternmost point. It's a maze, of stone or mist we cannot tell. We will make our first attempt in the morning, and I pray that it will be the only one we need. I very much want to go back to Asgard.

Despite the eerie surrounding, I am at least grateful to be out of Eldmara's "care." I don't want to know what I would have become in her service, and I like feeling that I can use my powers for good.

My solo shift lasts three hours hours in the darkest part of the night, and by the end of it, I'm downright paranoid. I wake Thor and Fandral, who take the next shift by themselves, doing what they can with torches. I get four hours of sleep to recharge because that's all they can handle with torchlight.

I'm just afraid that whatever we face tomorrow will be too much to handle even with me.

"Are you ready?" Loki stands next to me at the entrance of the maze. We're at the front so I can light the way and he can keep an observant eye on things. We started with an expedition of 50 men. We sent most of those home the first week, after trying to light enough path for them all to see left me near comatose.

Now we are down to Loki and I, Thor, Sif and the Warriors Three, three trackers, and five soldiers. Fifteen in total. The last eight plus Volstagg will stay behind and only enter the maze of we call for reinforcements.

"Yes." I stand firm despite butterflies in my stomach. I'm determined to serve my purpose, we wouldn't have made it this far without me and I'm not going to let them down now. I don't make eye contact with him, though. I just stare into the mist, gathering strength. We've all trained for this quest, and I definitely won most improved, but I'm still young, still inexperienced.

"Time to move out!" Thor announces. He's really grown into this leadership role, despite getting off to a rough start. Even though we've officially travelled beyond the reach of the Bifrost, we're fine on our own with Thor's direction. I watch as he tests the wall with his hand. It's not stone, it shifts at his touch, but doesn't let him through.

We march into the maze, stopping at the first junction. Not surprisingly, our ominous maze shifts behind us, blocking off the exit. I stoke my glow, pushing back errant tendrils of mist. We push forward, pausing at crossroads to consider which path is best. They all look the same to me.

We reach a junction that I swear we've seen at least twice. We are about to choose a new path when the mist dissolves. It's like a powder explosion: where before there was definite lines, there's now nothing but mist. I push back with my light, concentrating so hard that I actually ignite, but the presence of flame does nothing to help. I can't see anything but grey.

I reach out for where Loki was standing. There's nothing, even though he'd been inches away. I yell for him, but I can barely hear the sound of my own voice. I yell for the rest of them, for anyone, but there's no response, not even a change in the mist. The only thing I can hear is my own heart as it starts to race.

"LOKI!" I try again, even though it's evident that screaming is useless. I'm alone now.

I've been trained for this though, and I focus on that. I try to orient myself, but I have no idea which way I'm facing, and it doesn't matter anyway since the walls are gone. I walk forward, worried that the mist will hold me back, but it's less solid now that it was as a maze.

I take a deep breath and keep going. I figure that I'll either run into something or someone, or just wander forever, but movement feels better than just standing here. I try to glow brighter, but it still doesn't matter, I can't see more than a couple inches in front of my face. So I keep it to a minimum, trying to conserve energy.

An ear splitting crack sounds all around me, and the mist coalesces back into walls. The maze has returned. I'm alone in the passage, but now I can hear faint yelling in the distance. I run toward the sound, hitting several dead ends and having to double back. I shout in return, but I have no way to tell if they can actually hear me.

I realize as I run that I'm probably the only one that can see. The others had emergency torches, but the chances of them actually lighting them and keeping them lit in the mist are low. I run faster.

Just when I catch sight of something that isn't grey mist, the walls dissolve again. I don't stop running, hoping that by keeping in this direction I would run into whatever I saw. Instead, my foot catches on something on the ground, and I trip, landing hard.

I sit up, keeping my legs where they are, trying to reach beyond them to touch what I stumbled over. The mist has gone back to being near impossible to see through and dead quiet. One hand touches something sharp, the other closes around something metallic. I pick it up, realizing what it is. Hogun's flail.

I don't know how to use it, but I pick it up anyway. If danger has befallen Hogun, it's coming for the rest of us, and I might be the only one that can figure this out. I pull myself to my feet and wait, hoping that the pattern will continue and not spring anything else disastrous on me.

When the maze reappears, I sprint forward. Wasn't there a trick to mazes? Always go left unless you couldn't? I try it until the maze falls apart again, leaving me lost once again. I resist the urge to scream; I don't know what I'll attract if I do. I try it over and over, pushing myself faster and faster, but the maze falls again and again.

At one point, when the mist consolidates, I find myself face to face with a draugr, half its head smashed in and still snarling. I have enough sense to swing the flail at it, and it connects solidly, smashing the other side of its head. It's not enough to bring it down and it comes at me with a dagger. I don't know how to defend against it with the flail, so I drop it and draw my long knife from my boot.

The draugr is fast, but mostly blind. I have trouble defending from the random attacks, my nerves getting the better of me. There's no one here to watch my back; I don't even have a proper sword. I stay alive long enough to find an opening, and I ran my knife through its neck.

I burn the body, grotesquely glad that something in this place actually does burn. It's not much comfort. I sink to my knees in the mist, fear and panic setting in. I can't navigate in here, and if I can't, no one can. I can barely fight off draugr on my own. I'm going to die here, alone. The tears come, and I don't stop them, there's no one here to see.

As I watch the burning pyre, I notice that the smoke doesn't disperse. It lingers, curling and interspersing with the mist to the point where they're indistinguishable.

It's not mist, I realize. It hasn't ever been.

It's smoke.

It's not an extremely important realization, but it's all I've got at this point. Smoke and ash, suspended in what can only be magic, because that's what my life has come to. Shouldn't I be able to burn ash? Or was it too burnt to catch?

I'm covered in it, so I try burning just the small particles on my hand. It doesn't catch, but I feel something when I focus on it. I can sense fire, if it's close, and I concentrate really hard. The ash feels like it's still burning, the barest remnant of flame still living, preserved by whatever magic is suspending it.

The maze drops again. I curse, it means I've lost the flail since I forgot to pick it up. Down a weapon, but at least now I know that I'm surrounded by the remains of countless zombies. Or maybe, surrounded by fire. That really shouldn't be a comforting difference, but it is.

It's already burning, or at least I hope it is. And though it takes a great deal more effort, I can put out what's already burning. I reach out again, concentrating on the smoke around me. Instead of pushing it to burn, I will it to let go, to give up.

Nothing happens for a moment, and then it clears. Just barely, just enough for me to see my own hand in front of me. It's working, even though that much effort makes me sick. I pause to consider what the heck I should do now. I can lessen the smoke, but I can't get rid of it entirely, or least, not without seriously overexerting myself.

But when the maze walls reform, I can hear yelling, louder and more distraught than before. I still can't make out words, but I can tell that the others are making sounds of pain and panic. I have to help them.

I take a deep breath, reaching out to the smoke, once again urging it to stop, to be free. It resists, and in desperation, I slam my will against it. I'm no longer coaxing, or hoping that the fire will die. I'm commanding it. Smoke clears around me, and I realize that even if I clear enough of it, there's no sun. They still can't see.

So I glow too, pushing with light as smoke curls toward me. I'm nauseous immediately, and a headache soon follows. The ground starts to spin like the sky full of smoke. I don't stop though. I can't stop. I have to find them.

Eventually, I clear enough room to see figures, but I don't know if they're friend or foe. They come toward me but the pain forces my eyes shut. If they're draugr, I'm not going to be able to defend myself. I glow brighter, thinking maybe it will scare them off, but I know I'm dangerously close to overexertion.

It's just so hard. I'm fighting the smoke, fighting the spell, trying make it so my friends can see all at the same time. I've never tried anything like this with my powers. I start to shake, but I push harder. I manage to get my eyes open, but it's all I can do to see how much smoke is left before shutting them again. I think I'm almost to a point where I can stop. I push against the smoke, giving one last desperate command to the smoke. The air arounds me cracks audibly, and the mental wall I was pushing against shatters.

I stop putting the smoke out, because there's isn't any left. I don't know if I put all of it out or if I just broke through the spell, releasing it. I open my eyes to find a nearly bare field, some scattered friends, a dais just beyond them.

And a full army of draugr surrounding us.

The sight and the settling fatigue sends me to the ground, but I'm caught before I reach it. It's Fandral, he must have been closest to me when the maze fell. Loki reaches us next, just in time to watch me throw up. At least it makes some of the nausea go away.

"Ally? Ally, can you hear me?" His hands take over for Fandral's, checking me for injuries. He wipes the blood off my face, the overexertion must've given me a nosebleed. I can hear fighting in the distance. I respond with something that apparently wasn't words, because he repeats the question.

"I think I broke the maze," I mumble. That gets a strained laugh out of him.

"You've overexerted yourself, Ally, you know that's dangerous." I notice for the first time that we're still moving, he's probably trying to get me out of the line of fire.

"I had to find you. You guys can't see without me." The others are fighting, which is a miracle, because I'm not glowing very bright. Except that there is light coming from somewhere, up on the dais in the middle of the field. Right. The whole reason we came here.

"Thanks darling, but I'm not sure that's worth dying over." I would argue that it is, but I'm too busy staring at the platform as we approach. A tree branch sits upon it, scattering light. A branch of Yggdrasil, when it was a seedling. It's just enough to let the others see, but they can't take on the whole army.

"What are we gonna do?" Loki helps me to the edge of the platform, where I sit and try very hard to not puke again. He hands me my canteen and I sip some water. The others are retreating, forming a loose circle around us. Those who were outside the maze have joined us, and almost everyone is injured.

"Improvise." He leaves me for a moment to examine the branch. There's a snapping sound.

"Don't touch it!" I remind him.

"Too late." Loki's holding a twig of it when he comes back over, it's white light beginning to fade. "I'm going to apologize in advance for my new plan."

"You forgot to say sorry for the first one." He pulls me back to my feet, which I protest.

"I am sorry. We were unprepared, but that's no excuse."

"So what are you apologizing for this time?" I had meant to tease him, but his face is still solemn.

"I don't know if this will hurt you." That didn't sound good.

"You should really stop making plans." The fear in my voice is evident. I already hurt, but if it's our last shot…

"Sorry, I need you to burn this." He held the twig out to me. I take it with trembling hands. It's energy feels wild in my palm, barely contained. "We're cornered, and I don't know what else to do." I can see fear in him too; I can hear it in the others.

"Stand back," I tell him quietly. I start a small fire in my palm, catching the small bit of wood faster than I was ready for it. My light grows whiter, brighter, out of my control.

I explode with the same light. I feel rejuvenated, nausea, headache, and fatigue all gone. I expel a wave of power.

I understood Loki's plan now. We'd theorized that the branch of Yggdrasil would have a positive energy, that it would heal and purify. But here it was in action. My friends, healed instantly. The draugr dropped to the ground where they stood, the twisted spell keeping them alive now broken.

The field fell silent, still, almost peaceful. Only one thing wasn't happy about this turn of events, and that was the Eternal Flame inside me, apparently pissed that I had hijacked it's power to preserve instead of destroy for once. I doubled over as pain skyrocketed through me. I watched the world go from vertical to horizontal as I struggled to breathe.

"Ally!" Hands, voices, movement. I can barely register any of it. I'm burning again, I feel as if I'll dissolve into ash, cursed to join the maze in a million pieces.

It fades as quickly as it came. "I'm fine," I said breathlessly. "I'm good." It's true, but it does not convince anybody. Loki makes me drink the rest of my water and his before letting me stand.

"That's the last plan you ever get to make," I tell him.

"We'll see."


	13. Things We Lost In The Fire

Age 19

Unknown

I wake cold and alone, in a small room with grey honeycomb walls, floor, and ceiling. It's eerie in here, and cold. I shiver. It's a long time since I've been cold. It seeps into my muscles, urging me to be still and quiet. I don't know why.

But I remember the alley, fighting dark figures, and crashing through a window. Whatever happened after that was definitely not good, because I realize as I sit up that I'm not wearing my own clothes. I'm wearing a black t-shirt and loose, black pants, both with some kind of insignia that I can't see in the dim light. There's also an IV in my arm. I don't touch it.

Besides the bed that I'm on, the only other furniture in the room is a table at the center with a couple of chairs. Not a lot of information to go off of, but I would guess the sole purpose of this very creepy room is interrogation. It's not like I plan on escaping, though. Whoever put me here clearly knows what they're doing. The last thing I remember happening is being thrown through a window while on fire. If that's not a sign that I shouldn't be in charge of myself, I don't know what is.

Even though the walls look seamless, a door opens. I scoot back to lean against the wall. My visitor is a middle aged man in a suit, who looks friendly enough, but given the situation, I'm left to assume he's some kind of agent. He doesn't sit in the chair.

"Hi, I'm Agent Coulson." Yep, there it is. "I'm with SHIELD, we're not going to hurt you. Ally, how are you feeling?" He leans against the table. I'm a little thrown off that he knows my name.

"Like I got beat up and then thrown through a window." I hadn't actually thought about my injuries until he brought it up, but I definitely have them. I'm covered in bruises, but my ribs, hands, head, and one shoulder hurt more than the rest.

"That's fair. What were you doing in Seattle?" Were, I notice, not are. Have we moved?

"That's kind of a long story." I don't know if I'm ashamed or frightened, but suddenly it's hard to speak.

"I've got time." Time wasn't really the issue. Agent Coulson waits patiently for me to say something.

"I was looking for answers." I hate how childlike I sound. I'm 19, technically, but it didn't ever seem to matter how many times I told myself that. I still felt like a child, and unless I got my memory back, I would probably always feel this way. "I didn't mean to get in a fight, I was just trying to help, and they wouldn't let the girl go."

"Answers about your past?" I jolt like I've been shocked. "We know about your amnesia, we've been tracking you for some time. You've been under official surveillance since December."

That was a scary idea, but I knew why. "Since the fire."

"Yes. Your abilities are dangerous, and we would've contacted you sooner, but there were complications. If you're willing to answer a few questions, I might have some answers for you."

Wait. Did he know something about me, about whatever had happened to me? "I'm not trying to hide anything, but I don't know if I have the answers you're looking for."

"Let's start with last night. Why did you come to Seattle?" I told him how I'd heard that there was a human trafficking ring that was running out of the Valley around the time I was kidnapped. It was supposedly in Seattle now, but when I'd met with the guy who was supposed to know something, he'd refused to tell me anything. It sounded very reckless saying it out loud, but I'd been desperate.

"Why did you go to the office building?"

"I was wandering. I was supposed to get on a bus and head home, but I was frustrated, and… and I can't always control my powers when I get worked up. I walked around and I just kind of ended up there."

"So it has nothing to do with Asgard?"

Asgard? Wasn't that from one of the mythologies? Not Greek, Norse? Norse. That seemed incredible random, but Agent Coulson didn't sound like he was joking.

"Umm, no? What would Norse mythology have to do with human trafficking?"

"Nothing, thankfully." Coulson hesitated, then came to sit in the chair. "Ally, I know that this must be a lot to take in, but we've actually met before." I frowned. I thought I was the one that was crazy, with my black hole of a brain, but this sounds actually insane. Then again, it's not like I can argue with him. "About 3 years ago, you were part of an incident in New Mexico. You were with a group of people who claimed to be from Asgard, something we've since been able to confirm."

"Are you talking about Thor? Are you saying I've met Thor?" I knew who the Avengers were, of course. I had only been found a month or so after whatever had happened in New York. It was strange learning that in the time I'd been gone that the world had developed people with powers. It was stranger still to accept that I was one of them.

"Yes. Maybe this will help." Coulson pulled out a phone, fiddling with it for a second before showing me the screen. It looks like secret camera footage, of armored figures with swords. Three guys, two girls. I can't make out the smaller girl's face, but the red hair is mine. The figure is mine.

He shows another picture, this time with a clear view of my face. In the same frame as a large, muscular, red caped figure that I've seen on news footage. It's Thor.

I feel dizzy seeing all of this. Why couldn't I remember this? Was this why I had powers? Why I knew how to fight? It had to be, right? Even if it made no sense whatsoever?

"Ally?" I don't know how long he's been calling my name.

"I don't remember this. Even seeing it, I don't know, I can't, I don't remember anything."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I can try to answer any questions, but first I want to bring someone in to look at your injuries. I apologize for waiting, but I needed-"

"To make sure I wasn't going to hurt anybody," I finished.

"It was a necessary precaution." I'm not offended, but Coulson seems uncomfortable about the whole situation. He leaves and a short time later, two others walk in, a woman in a sweater and a lab coat and a taller man that looms ominously in the doorway. He's holding it open, letting in light from whatever was outside the room. I think it's because they're trying to make me more comfortable.

The woman kneels down next to me, opening up a med kit. "I'm Dr. Simmons, don't mind Agent Ward in the corner, he just likes to be intimidating." She fiddles with the IV for a moment and frowns, putting a hand to my forehead, then pulls out a thermometer.

"Do you feel dizzy or lightheaded?" she asks as she takes my temperature.

"Maybe a little? It mostly just hurts."

"I thought you had a fever when they brought you in, but your temperature hasn't gone down."

I shrug. "I'm always warm. My grandma thought I was sick too, when they found me, but it's always like this."

"I suppose it's not uncommon with your abilities, but you need to be sure to stay hydrated." Dr. Simmons asks about my injuries and checks me for a concussion, which would explain why it hurts to think. She decides that none of my cuts or scrapes need stitches, just bandages. She also instructs me to take it easy, after she removes the IV.

"I can't promise I won't get thrown through anymore windows," I joke, "but I'll try not to." Dr. Simmons starts to clean up, but the room shakes, knocking more supplies out of the box. "I can't do anything about earthquakes though."

Agent Ward speaks up for the first time, shaking his head. "It's just a little turbulence, nothing to worry about."

Wait, what?

"Uhhhh. Turbulence? Are we flying?" I didn't like that idea. If my abilities acted up again, if I couldn't control them, I knew I could take down a plane. I didn't want to hurt anyone.

"Yes, but I can assure you we have an excellent pilot," Dr. Simmons replies. I help her pick up the supplies that had scattered. "This would've been easier if we were in our brand new, state of the art medical pod, but unfortunately one of our agents has been injured and is still recovering."

She gets the med kit closed before the plane shakes again. It's worse this time, it's enough to slide the chair across the floor. I cling to the mattress, trying to stay calm, but my glow gets brighter. It draws alarm from Agent Ward and fascination from Dr. Simmons.

"Do you know what causes your abilities?" she asks. I shake my head. "They're remarkable. I'd have to run some tests to be sure, but you're more stable than most pyrokinetics we've come across."

"Stable?" I try not to sound disbelieving. "I can't control my powers and I burn down buildings. I'm not sure I want to know what unstable is."

"I mean, relatively speaking, of course. But you recovered after losing control and that's frankly amazing." Dr. Simmons smiles at me, and I wonder a little if she'd trying to distract me from the turbulence, but she seems very genuine. Her comforting smile lasts all the way through the third bout of turbulence, but not through the fourth or fifth, which come immediately after. I shut my eyes to try to keep calm, and I don't open them until the room stops shaking for a full minute.

"Alright," Agent Ward says, "Come on, we've got to strap in. Everybody out." I follow Dr. Simmons out of the creepy, dark room, and into a calmly lit office looking room that is, in fact, on a plane. I'm led to a seat, and I buckle in, glancing over to where Agent Coulson and now Agent Ward are talking with a younger man whose mannerisms are eerily similar to Dr. Simmons. He comes over and sits by us.

"If we weren't in such a hurry, I could've recalibrated the suspension and the stabilizers," he grumbles. "It's not even a bad storm, I just haven't been able to fix them yet."

"It's not your fault, Fitz. We've been very busy." Simmons explains to me that one of the members of their team, Skye, was recently shot and recovering in the new medical pod somewhere else on the plane, which I realize must be bigger than I thought. Fitz adds that they're in a hurry because they were called to handle another emergency situation soon after picking me up. He doesn't explain much more than that, I guess I'm not exactly allowed to know classified information.

Fitz and Simmons start to talk about something else, and I stare out the window before I realize they're talking about me, and what I did in Seattle. How I burned down the building, hot enough to crack the concrete I was laying on. It would be distressing, except they're talking purely about the science side of it, not how I must be a freak for being able to destroy things. They ask questions about what else I can do with my powers, and for the first time, I don't feel uncomfortable answering them.

It isn't too much longer before we start to descend, landing somewhere in the desert, though I can't tell where we are just by glancing out the window. It looks like home though. Agent Coulson calls Fitz and Dr. Simmons over, except he says it like they're one person: Fitzsimmons. It's cute. They're joined by Agent Ward and a stern looking woman who walks over from the front of the plane. Probably the pilot. I smile at her. She doesn't smile back.

I stay put, not sure if I should go back to the creepy but probably fireproof looking room or wait for someone to tell me what to do. I try not to eavesdrop, but they're all standing right there, and nobody makes an effort to keep quiet. I don't quite understand what they're talking about, the scientists they reference are unfamiliar to me, and there seems to be tension about whatever they're finding. I catch that something similar has happened in New Mexico, Arizona, and Greenwich.

I also find out that we're on the California/Nevada border, and hear the word Asgardian again. Was that good? The team of trained government agents can't even seem to decide, throwing names like Thor and Loki around, trying to figure out if whoever comes will be ally or enemy. The only way to find out is to meet them, and I know that I won't be invited to that, even if I've become interested in the outcome.

Agent Coulson comes back over to me after they're done discussing it. "I apologize, as you can see, we're a little all over the place." He sits across from me. "Ally, I want you to understand that we're not arresting you, or holding you prisoner. Besides the men that you… disabled, no one got hurt in Seattle. We've since been able to identify those men, and almost all of them had warrants out for their arrest."

I feel relieved to know that, but I'm not sure what happens now. I don't ask though, because the point still stands that I burned down a building and my brain is a black hole and I don't think they'll let someone like that go back to living alone. Coulson continues.

"But because you're enhanced, we have to take certain precautions, especially because of the nature of your abilities. It's to keep you safe just as much as those around you. Dr. Simmons is going to take you downstairs and explain more, but we're going to put you on what's called the Index. It's a record of enhanced individuals that helps us keep track of who's out there and you'll be assigned a case agent to help keep you out of trouble."

"You guys are going to let me go back home?" That idea almost scares me more than anything else. Coulson's face changes to something unreadable.

"That's still undecided. There's a couple different options, but let me worry about that for now. Let Simmons know if you have any other questions." Coulson hands me off to Dr. Simmons and she leads me through the plane and down some stairs to an interesting looking science lab.

"The Indexing process is very simple, just some blood samples and fingerprinting, and some question. Mostly, I need to get a general understanding of your abilities to go on the record, and we're all set."

"Okay." I'm not going to object, it doesn't sound scary, and Simmons explains everything that she does. I learn a handful of things about myself, that despite my powers and as far as Simmons can figure, I'm still mostly human. That my normal temperature is about 107 degrees, and that she estimates it can go up or down a couple from that when I'm not using my powers. That I should be drinking more water than the average human. That I heal quite a bit faster than normal people. It helps me wrap my head around it a little more, that what I am can be broken down into somewhat explainable science terms.

I also meet Skye, the team's hacker, who uploads Simmons' findings into my newly created file and sends it to Coulson for approval, which she calls the most excitement she's had since getting shot twice in the stomach. Simmons looks at her disapprovingly. We end up back in the lab when the other agents return.

There a woman with them, decked out in full armor. I recognize her from the pictures Coulson showed me. More alarming is the fact that she seems to recognize me. Especially the part where she draws her sword and holds it against my neck. I yelp.

"I should strike you where you stand," she threatens, but hesitates. I start to go cross-eyed staring at the blade, but looking at the warrior at the other end makes my head spin. "You may wear the face of a friend, but I know who you are, _Eldmara._ "

I freeze, like every cell of my body has been turned to ice. I know that name. I can't remember from where, but I know that I know that name. "Uhhh…." I'm surprised that I try to speak at all, with my bones like jelly and my heart pounding.

"Stand down, Lady Sif," Coulson says as he strides into the room. "I'm not sure what's going on here, but I would appreciate it if you didn't kill people on my plane." Sif looks at Coulson, alarmed, but pulls her sword down, though she doesn't put it away. I back away a little bit.

"Thor said you perished at the hand of Loki." Those names again. Except now I feel weird hearing them, like they're familiar too.

"Loki's not the only one with tricks up his sleeve." Coulson doesn't seem scared of Lady Sif, which is reassuring.

"Thor will be glad to hear it," Sif replies, before looking at me again, "but I regret to inform you that if she's here, you're all in terrible danger. She may claim to be Ally Pernix, but that is impossible. She's an imposter, a magical dupe."

"Excuse you?" It's already been a weird day, but this tops it. I always thought that when I was deeply terrified, I'd cry or freak out. Apparently today, I'm going with rude interruptions. "I might have a giant case of amnesia, but I'm me. I'm Ally Pernix."

"Amnesia? Likely story." Sif turns to Coulson. "The last time I saw Ally Pernix, alive, she sacrificed herself to save me from one of Asgard's greatest enemies. I believe that enemy is now using Ally's body and powers. I'm not sure how she ended up in your care-"

"We have no proof that Ally isn't who she says she is, and I doubt that one of Asgard's enemies would've spent almost a year going to high school and trying to keep out of trouble." I appreciate Coulson standing up for me, but Sif still looks unconvinced.

"I'm me," I repeat. "I'm sorry I don't remember you, but I'd really like to not get stabbed." Sif turns to me in surprise, a look of amusement on her face instead of anger. She studies me for a moment.

"You said that to me the first time we trained. I told you I couldn't make any promises." Sif seems to consider the idea. Next thing I know, she's put her sword away and is _hugging_ me. "I thought you were dead."

"Yeah I'm alive. Might not be for much longer if you don't let me breathe." I had not realized how strong Asgardians were. Sif lets me go. "And I still have no idea who you are or what you're doing here."

"Let's come back to the problem at hand," Coulson redirects. "I understand you're looking for someone."

Sif explains about Lorelei, an enchantress. Someone so powerful she could bring down empires, and I detect a hint of fear in her. Sif details how Lorelei uses magic to bend the minds of men to her will. "Men have an inherent weakness we do not share." She smirks at me as she says it.

My mouth seems to move of its own accord and I'm speaking before I get to process what comes out. "Don't goad them, Sif, you know it's just the way that she's set the spell up. It's more potent if it's limited to one group of people, and she gets better at it over time that way." Everyone is staring at me, and I can feel my face get warmer as I clap both hands over my mouth. "I don't know where that came from," I mumble. "I don't remember, it just kind of came out." It had felt like a natural response to the topic, but I still can't remember. Sif looks hopeful and everyone is smiling, even though I'm still weirded out by that fact that whoever I was before, I knew things about _magic._

Sif gets back to business, showing them the collar designed to stop Lorelei from using her powers. It sounds simple, but something tells me it will definitely not be. They make a plan to track her down, and the team disperses to their various tasks. I follow Sif and Coulson back upstairs, after making sure Dr. Simmons doesn't need me for anything else. Sif still freaks me out, but if she's the key to finding more about my past, I want to stay close.

I watch as they scan through recent crime reports in the area. They find several that could be linked to Lorelei, but I'm more intrigued at the friendly conversation Coulson strikes up about _aliens._ Like there are _more of them._ He specifically wants to know about blue ones, and if any have visited Earth. Only one of them is familiar sounding like Eldmara, or Loki, and that's the Kree. But Sif assures Coulson that none of them have visited earth. After tracking a location, Sif turns to me.

"Come, Ally," Sif commands, and I feel myself go alert in response. "Lorelei wouldn't dare to resist with the Eternal Flame on our side."

"What? With what? Is that why I can light things on fire?" My amnesia makes me feel like an idiot, and it seems to amuse Sif and concern Coulson, or maybe he's concerned about something else.

"I'm sorry, Lady Sif, but Ally's not going. I understand you two have a history, but she's under official SHIELD protection, which means not sending her into a potentially dangerous situation." I wonder if it's that simple, or if the fact that I'm being 'Indexed' has anything to do with it.

"Plus you know, if you want to ask me, I don't want to go. It sounds dangerous and a lot like you want me to light things on fire and I can't control my powers. I don't want to hurt anyone." Sif's expression changes surprisingly into one of concern.

"Ally…" She doesn't seem to know what to say. "You are a great warrior, one of Asgard's finest. But I do understand what losing control does to you. I won't force you to go, but we do need to get moving if we are going to stop Lorelei." They leave it at that. I follow them to the back of the plane, and Sif holds me back for a second while Coulson talks to the others.

"Stay alert. I do not know what Lorelei's plan is, but if we become overwhelmed, I'm not sure I'll be able to respect your wishes." Then she smirks at me and jumps over the railing. I decide to take the stairs.

Sif and Coulson depart, along with Agent Ward, and the pilot, Agent May. I'm left in the lab with Fitz, who's working on a gun, except it looks vaguely science-fictiony. "What's that?" I ask.

"It's called an ICER, it's a stun weapon," Fitz explains, launching into a description of how it works, first in very technical terms and then in English after I ask what dendrotoxin means.

"I wonder if it would work on you, your body temperature might be high enough to burn the dendrotoxin off before it takes effect. Let me ask Simmons." Fitz leans into the hallway that leads to the medical pod, and I assume that's where Simmons is, checking on Skye. "Is Ally's body temperature too high for the ICER to work?"

Simmons replies, barely audible to me. "Yes, Fitz, you'd have to adjust the dosage, even several rounds as they are right now wouldn't have much effect."

Fitz turns back to me, an excited look on his face. "Did you hear her? That's just fascinating."

"Yep, so I'm basically bulletproof, as far as these things go." It is pretty cool.

Fitz still looks excited, but now it's tinged with mischief too. "We could try it, if you wanted, just to see-" Simmons appears in the doorway, an exasperated look on her face.

"Fitz, please tell me I didn't hear you offer to shoot Ally with an ICER." I laugh.

"It was for scientific purposes!"

They go on to have a short debate about it, and I just listen in. It's a lot to take in, the government agency that deals with superheroes on a regular basis, and the sword lady that claims to be my friend, and the imminent threat of earth in danger. At the same time, it doesn't feel strange or out of place, just like it's a lot to handle at once.

Agent Coulson, Agent May, and Sif all look solemn returning; they relay that Agent Ward was caught by Lorelei and enthralled. The bad news continues when a furious Sif explains that the collar designed to catch Lorelei was damaged in the fight. There's no missing the desperation in her voice.

Coulson, on the other hand, is the picture of calm. He tells Sif that he'll worry about the particulars, finding Ward before it's too late and fixing the collar, which he hands off to Fitz. Sif doesn't look comforted by the idea, but she does calm down, or at least looks calmer as she stalks off to the room where I woke up.

I follow her there, not quite sure why, except that Sif seems to consider me a friend, and she looks like she could use one. I poke my head in. "Hey."

Sif glances over from the wall she looks like she was going to punch. "Ally," she greets, "Can I help you?" I just shrug.

"Thought you might want some company." I enter the room and lean against the wall. "I don't think it's really healthy to punch planes, and I was wondering if you could help me remember more. Do you know why I can't remember?"

"I have some idea. Last time I saw you, we were betrayed by a friend, Mina, a sorceress that helped you escape Eldmara, one of our enemies. Mina cast a spell on you, and I later learned that it's purpose was to erase your entire identity from your body so that Eldmara could take over and control your powers. You fought her off while I took your family to Asgard, but I had no way of knowing how successful the spell was. You remember nothing of your time as a warrior?"

"Nothing," I confirm. I feel strange being called that. "Was I really a warrior? And I could control the Everlasting Flame or whatever?"

"The Eternal Flame," Sif corrects. "And you _are_ a fine warrior, master swordsman, and skilled combatant. You've waged dozens of battles and are almost always victorious." She pauses. "Had you been with us today, I have no doubt that we would have captured Lorelei."

"But I'm not a warrior," I protest. "Maybe I was, but I can't do all that stuff now, I mean, I can fight, but I wouldn't know what to do with a sword, and whatever this fire thing is I can't control it."

The Asgardian warrior smirks again, then pulls her sword out of sheath on her back. She shakes it, and it goes from having one blade to two. She pulls at the seam and it breaks into two swords, and she hands me one. Surprisingly, I don't drop it. "The weight's wrong." Another comment from my mouth that seems to have no source.

"You always say that, it's because you have not practiced, but," Sif swings her half of the weapon toward me, and _I block it with my own_ like it's nothing. I stare at my hands, wrapped around the hilt of the weapon in a sure grip, and then at my feet, which have shifted into a defensive position. It's like what happens when I fight, instinct and training taking over even when I can't remember it. She swings at me a few more times, and dodges a slash I make.

Sif grins. "The warrior is still in there somewhere. Not all is lost." I smile back at her, I believe it, considering all the strange things I've seen in the past day. Sif takes the sword from me and reconnects it to hers. "You should get some rest. I do not know how long it will take this SHIELD to find Lorelei and her new prey, but I need you well rested."

I don't argue, just move back to the bed, but I don't lie down, just sit. "I'm still not sure I can go," I tell her. "Or should. I believe you, about all the sword stuff, just not about controlling my powers. Every time I use them, something bad happens."

"That is the nature of your powers, Ally. But you have incredible control over them, even when it seems that they're getting out of hand. You are in charge of your fire, but it is just like the sword. You are out of practice." I consider that, and Sif puts a hand on my shoulder. "I believe in you."

She believes in me a little less when I wake screaming and on fire from a nightmare several hours later. Even though they've found a location on Ward, both Sif and Coulson agree that bringing me is too risky. I stay on the plane while they head into Las Vegas.

I end up back in the lab after Dr. Simmons requests another blood sample. She explains that it's for some research that she's been working on, not related to the Index. I don't mind, the needles don't bother me and it's better to be down here with someone to talk to than back up in the dark room. I do wonder if that's where I should be anyway, after what happened this morning. But I don't want to miss the way Fitz and Dr. Simmons interact. They complete each other's sentences and hand the other tools that they need. Despite the fact that their fields of expertise are different, they are familiar with the other's work enough to be able to bounce ideas around. It's interesting to hear, even if most of it goes over my head.

Eventually, Simmons heads back to talk with Skye, and Fitz finishes up work on the collar. It amazes me what they do, that SHIELD isn't just a bunch of super secret agents running around fighting aliens and gods, that there's scientists and engineers working to understand the unexplainable and make the world safer.

I'm surprised to hear the loading doors of the cargo bay open. It's far too soon for anyone to come back, even if Ward and Lorelei weren't at the hotel. I move so I can see what's going on.

And I get shot in the chest.

I look at it, and even though I can tell something hit me and it's going to leave a mark, I am not dead. I realize as soon as I see Ward coming up, that's its an ICER, which doesn't affect me. And now I know that for certain.

"You don't look like much," says the woman behind him, who must be Lorelei, "for someone who holds the Eternal Flame. Still, a power like that… don't kill her, she might be useful."

"What are you doing here?" My voice sounds calmer than I feel.

"Taking down any resistance," Ward replies. I was hesitant about finding a fight, but I'm the only one on the plane who can hold them off. "Cooperate and we won't hurt you."

I know that's a lie. This probably doesn't end well for me either way, and I won't let them hurt Fitz, Simmons, or Skye if I can help it. I stand my ground, before deciding it might be better to attack. I don't want to hurt Ward if he's being mind controlled, but I know he won't hesitate to hurt me.

My first punch never lands, but his does. It's immediately clear that he has more training than those goons that I fought the other night, not to mention faster and stronger. Ward hits where it already hurts, but I do my best to ignore it. It takes every inch of instinct I have to intercept his blows, and I start to gain the upper hand, or so I think. I punch across his face, dodge a swipe, spin and kick him him in the ribs. For a moment, I can see myself as the warrior Sif believes me to be. The feeling doesn't last long.

He lunges at me, and we go down hard on the cargo bay floor. It knocks the air out of me, and my skin ignites. It stops Ward from attacking just long enough for me to get oxygen to my brain. I force my powers to shut off, even if it worked, I don't want to burn him.

He punches me in the face, clearly going for a knockout blow, but I cling to consciousness. I I'm barely able to register Ward shifting holds, but I soon feel the pressure on my throat. I grow hot again, out of my control, but it's not enough to get him to let go before I run out of oxygen completely. The world goes dark.

I'm in handcuffs when I wake up, in a room I don't recognize, an office of some sort. From the not quite steady movement though, I think it's still on the plane. I can hear Lorelei if I stick my ear to the door, her voice carries, I don't know if she'd just loud, or if it's the magic part. I have to get out there, see what's going on. I get my arms in front of me, with much finagling, then wonder if I can get out of the handcuffs.

After deciding that breaking my own wrist is not something I'm willing to do, I find a key in the top drawer of the desk, and free my hands. Now I just have to break down the door, but I try to just open it first, for good measure. It pays off, but I'm not prepared for the sight of May and Ward fighting. It's a fast fight, and I can't tell who's winning, but Ward's back is to me, and I run to tackle him before he can react.

We hit the floor and I fumble to grab an arm and twist it. It has to hurt, but Ward pushes against it anyway, and I can't hold him down. He gets a knee up and pushes me off of him. I scramble back and get to my feet. May closes in, and Ward doesn't seem bothered by that fact that he has to fight us both. May goes for his head at the same time I kick at his knee. He takes the kick so he can fend off May's punch. I get in close to hit his ribs and take an elbow to the face. May tries to take him down by climbing on top of him, but the effectiveness of that technique is thwarted when he rams her against the ceiling and throws her to the floor. I try to grab him from behind, intending to pin him against the wall, but he turns faster than I expect. Ward gets both of my arms behind me in a one handed grip before I can react, and the other hand holds something cold to my head.

I don't think it's an ICER.

We face May, and I would struggle if the angle didn't hurt my arms so bad. I'm mostly fighting to keep my powers under control, even now I can't bring myself to burn Ward. I wonder why he didn't just shoot me, but I guess that wasn't dramatic enough. He wants May to watch, know that she can't do anything about it. He pulls the trigger, and the gun clicks. It's a quiet sound, but it's everything. May holds up the thing with the bullets that she must have taken out of the gun.

While it's nice to not get my brains blown out, I don't doubt that Agent Ward knows more than a dozen ways to end my life without a gun. After a moment though, he lets go, backing up and putting his hands up. "Woah, hey, I'm sorry. It's me, I'm not-"

"He's clear," Sif says behind us, bring a cuffed and silenced Lorelei with her. May steps forward and clocks Ward in the face anyway, but Sif's attention shifts to me. "Ally?"

I'm breathing hard, failing at not freaking out because there's flames dancing up and down my arms and I can't get them to stop and I'm going to lose control like before and bring down the whole plane.

Sif hands Lorelei off to someone else and guides me back to the hexagon room. It's darker in here and I watch my own light cast erratic patterns on the walls. "Breathe, Ally."

"I can't get it to stop!" My voice is a frantic sound I barely recognize.

"It'll die out on it's own if you stop fighting it," Sif tells me, but there's doubt in her voice too. "Don't feed it, but don't fight it either."

I try, but all I can think about is all the people that are on the plane, people that were kind to me and didn't think I was a freak and how I'm going to hurt them _if I can't get this to stop._

Sif mutters about she was never as good at this as he was, but I barely catch it, don't understand it. "Just breathe," she tells me. I try, in and out, but it doesn't stop me from getting worked up. The flames slowly envelop me, but I don't blow up at least. Sif stays with me, keeps a hand on my shoulder for as long as she can stand, but apparently even Asgardians have limits.

Eventually, I burn myself out. I can't tell if it's hours or minutes later, and I collapse against Sif, who lowers me to the floor. "Rest," she tells me, but it's unecessary. At this point, it's not like I have a choice to not pass out.

I wake cold and alone, in a small room with grey honeycomb walls, floor, and ceiling. It's eerie in here, and cold. I shiver. It's a long time since I've been cold. It seeps into my muscles, urging me to be still and quiet. I don't know why.

But I remember… what do I remember? The alley, fighting dark figures, and crashing through a window. But there's more after that, just bits and pieces. The agent, Coulson, and his team. Dr. Simmons fixing me up, though I've gained several more bruises and aches since then. I was Indexed. We were trying to find someone? I fought Agent Ward, remembered the feeling of the gun against my head. I don't remember what happened after.

But whatever happened after that was definitely not good, because I realize as I sit up that I'm wearing a new pair of the same kind of clothes: a black t-shirt and loose, black pants, both with some kind of insignia that I can't see in the dim light. There's also an IV in my arm, again. I don't touch it.

A door opens in the seamless wall and I scoot back to lean against the wall. Agent Coulson walks in, with a woman in armor that I swear that I've seen before. "How are you feeling?" she asks.

"Like I got beat up, thrown through a window, and beat up a couple more times," I tell her. "Sorry, I feel like we've met but I don't recognize you." I watch her and Agent Coulson's faces fall.

"Ally? This is Sif, she helped us catch Lorelei," Coulson says warily. "Remember?"

"No," I reply, my voice small. I tell him what I do remember, but it only makes their expressions grow darker. Coulson brings Dr. Simmons in to check me for a concussion. I don't have one. They fill me in on what I'm missing. I don't remember any of it.

I sit in the booth seats outside with a SHIELD logo water bottle and a protein bar while they discuss what it means. I think I know. It means that I won't ever be able to remember my past, because even when I get close, I'll just forget again.

But that's not what Coulson, Sif, and Simmons have been discussing. They're trying to figure out what to do with me. Sif explains that she can't take me back to Asgard, it wouldn't be safe for me there, because she doesn't want to leave me alone and she's almost always on missions for the king. I'm relieved to hear it, because the last thing I want to do is go to an alien planet when I already can't understand what's happening on this one.

Coulson explains, somewhat reluctantly, that the protocol for my situation, as an adult with unpredictable and destructive abilities, is to send me to a SHIELD facility called the Fridge. He doesn't comment on what that entails, which I think says more about what kind of place it is.

"But I'm uncomfortable with that option," he clarifies. "Ally, you risked your life today for my team, even though you knew you could get hurt. You refused to hurt a man that was trying to kill you because he was being mind controlled. You put the safety of those around you first." He sounds a little like a proud dad and it makes me feel better, if only slightly. "Those are things we value at SHIELD. There's a classified facility, usually for teenagers, that can help you fill in the gaps in your education, and they have specialists there that might be able to help you control your powers. I'm advocating for an exception in your behalf, and I think they'd be excited to have you."

It doesn't sound like I have much of a choice, but it's the best option I've heard so far. I nod. "That sounds good, I mean, it's obvious that I can't go home, but I'd rather do that then be locked up." Or end up stranded on an alien planet.

Sif says goodbye, she has to go back to Asgard, return Lorelei to prison. She tells me to be brave, reminds me that regardless of what happens, I am a warrior, and she gives me a hug. I return it, even though the woman is mostly a stranger. I try to hold onto that, make myself believe that she is right, that I am more than what I feel.

But by the time we arrive at the classified SHIELD facility, I have forgotten again.


	14. Hallelujah

Age 14

Grand Asylum, Alfheim

"Go!" Loki shoves me ahead of him, toward the wall. It's a miracle we've even made it this far, but if we don't make it to the wall, it won't matter. I sprint for it, trusting that he'll cover me. I can feel the raw power of the thin energy shield covering it as I approach. I have to try and break through, or at least weaken it enough to let other attacks through.

If we spend even another day assaulting the Grand Asylum with no success, the casualties will be too great to ensure that we can finish the war. And if we can't finish the war, Alfheim's factions will continue to slaughter each other. We don't know if the Eternal Flame can break through, but we have to try.

There's a haze of something surrounding the fortress. I realize when I get close enough that it's steam, coming out of vents at the base. It doesn't bother me as I start blasting fire at it, concentrating on one spot. It doesn't seem to do anything but blacken it with ash. I'm gonna have to touch it.

I slam a burning palm into the wall, as hot as I can go. I can feel it resisting, fighting me. It seems to weaken for a second, and suddenly I'm engulfed in flames that I didn't start. The blast knocks me backwards, but it's not half as surprising as the shock that travels through me like lightning. Everything goes black before I even make it to the ground.

I wake on horseback, Loki holding me tight to his chest as we retreat. I can't feel anything from my right arm, the one I touched the wall with. I use the other to hang onto his arm. "Thanks for joining us, how are you feeling?"

"Like I got energy blasted," I reply. "I can't feel my arm." He assures me that it will pass. We're still under fire as we retreat, but we reach the outer limits of camp, out of range. A stable boy comes to take the reins of Loki's horse, and he slides off, then lifts me out of the saddle. He insists on carrying me to the med tent, but we don't make it there; Tyr and Thor need to know how the assault went as soon as possible. I negotiate to walk there, it's my arm I can't feel, not my legs. Loki agrees reluctantly.

I study the diagram of the Grand Asylum while Loki debriefs the war council, only chiming in when I'm asked direct questions, which is how it usually goes. I'm a soldier, a captain, even, but my opinion is not highly valued. I mean, what do I know, I'm 14. I find what I'm looking for, the vents that I noticed earlier, an idea forming in my head. It's risky, but today was our last chance. I wait patiently for a lull long enough for me to interrupt.

"What about the vents? Why haven't we ever tried attacking there, if they're unshielded?"

"We've never been close enough," Tyr explains, as if it's obvious. "We can't fire on it unless we're within range, and we can't use it to infiltrate because it's too small of an access point." He moves the topic back to what the plan is now, which is the same plan we've been using for a week, aside from today's excursion. Keep attacking, try and get lucky. But it's not working and I'm sure that this will.

"I can fit," I say, before anyone has time to further plan our slow descent into suicide. "And the steam won't hurt me, it's just heat right? It probably come straight from whatever device is powering the shield, I just have to follow the ventilation all the way to it's source."

"You want to go behind enemy lines, alone, with no evac," Loki says carefully. "Ally, that's suicide."

"What we're doing is suicide! We aren't making any progress, and we're going to lose!" I have everyone's attention now, and I hold it. "We can't afford to waste any more time. We should get back out there."

I know what I'm proposing is risky, but the plan is solid. I just have to get these Asgardian morons to put their egos away. "We cut our casualties in half today with the speed of the assault and the retreat. Injuries were minimal." I can tell it surprises them that I was paying attention to the debrief.

"We are already prepared for a second assault today, and we've never attempted that before, so we have the advantage of surprise. It's the perfect diversion to send me in, and that way the army will already be close enough to infiltrate when the field falls."

"That plan is dependent on you," Tyr counters. "What if you can't get the shield down?"

"Then I find some other weakness inside and I hit them as hard as I can. I can do this!" I meet the eyes of everyone in the war council. Thor and the other elite are considering, Tyr still isn't, and Loki… He knows that I'm right, I can see it in his eyes. But there's no way he'd let me go alone, not for this. It's not that it's risky, I think, it's that it's reckless. But it's our only option.

"No," Tyr finally says, and I watch Loki try and hide his relief. "We can't risk it." Tyr moves the council, swiftly, to another subject, even as I start to smolder with anger. I know full well that he knows I'm right, but it doesn't matter. He doesn't trust me.

"Hey, it wasn't a bad plan," Loki says, placing a hand on my shoulder even though my armor must be hot to the touch. I cool, just enough and only physically. It doesn't matter what he says, it's not going to make it better. We're going to lose. "It's just not the right one."

He makes me even angrier because he doesn't believe that. He's just hiding behind it to keep me safe. "Why don't you go have the medics check your arm?" I protest, I'm starting to feel it now, but he gives me a pleading look. "Go get some rest, elskan. I'll come find you later."

I leave the command tent without another word. I start to head in the direction of the medical tent, but I can't shake the anger. The troops are still arriving from the battlefield, still prepared for a fight. We should attack while we still have the chance. I move on that thought, heading to where some of the captains are dismounting. I take the reins of one of the horses, it's not the first time I've helped the stable crew after a battle. But I don't take the horse back to the stable. I mount it, and when no one is looking, I ride for the perimeter, finally regaining full feeling and function in my arm.

One of the guards stops me, like I knew he would. It's a solid ten minute ride to here from the command tent, plus the time it takes for the guard to ride back. I hope it's enough.

"You have two options," I tell him. "You can try and stop me and lose, or you can go tell Tyr and the rest of the war council that if they don't start an assault on the Grand Asylum, they're going to miss the only chance they'll ever get." The Einherjar grows pale, and I ride off before he can stop me.

I take a side path through the tree line, the route we took this morning. It provides the most cover, and the forest comes up almost to the outside wall of the fortress. It gets me close enough to the vent to see that I can fit… just not with my armor on. For a brief moment, I comprehend how truly reckless this idea is. Behind enemy lines with no armor and no exit route?

But if the army is coming, and I don't get to the energy field, soldiers will die, and it will be on me. I can't go back now. I unbuckle my chest piece and take off my shin guards, leaving me in my under dress, leggings, and boots. I watch the guards patrol for a second, waiting for a time when they won't see me. Then I sprint out and pry the vent off, melting the metal where it won't give. I'm hit with a face full of steam, but it doesn't hurt, just makes it difficult to see.

My next problem is found immediately upon crawling into the vent: it's too difficult to maneuver with my sword. I only pause a second before leaving it behind, I still have my long knife strapped to my boot, and I have to keep going.

I follow the path of the vents, breathing in the very humid air and pushing myself forward. It's dark in here, but it's the steam that makes it difficult to see. I have to make frequent direction changes, up, down, around in seemingly endless circles. I hit more barriers, having to break through them before continuing. The walls press against me, like the throat of a large predator that I've willingly let myself get eaten by.

It was mind numbing, but I couldn't stop, couldn't take a minute, because if I did, I wasn't sure I could push myself forward again. I didn't want to get trapped up here. That panicked feeling intensifies when I reach a grate I can't break through. I shove and shove, them try to melt it, but it won't give.

I must have broken something though, because I tumble out the bottom of the vent. Something breaks my fall, and it takes a long second of breathing in air that isn't half moisture to realize that it was a person. That the room I've landed myself in is full of people. I slowly get to my feet, forcing my brain to figure out where I am and what I'm supposed to be doing.

I grin a little as I realize that by sheer, dumb luck, I'm in the control room. The people in here aren't soldiers, and they start to move for the exits, and I have little time to do what I need to. And then I need to book it out of here if I want to live. I find the most complicated controls I can find and light them on fire. I wish I could just figure out how to turn them off, but I can't have anyone coming in here and turning the energy field back on. The fire spreads quickly because I force it to, and soon the whole room is burning. I put it out before I leave, the equipment's been damaged enough. I know that it's worked because the whole fortress shakes with the sound of thunder.

It's my cue to leave.

I sprint through the hallways, I have no clue how to get out of here, but I pick a direction and stick with it. I run into only a few people, and none of them try to stop me. The real problem, I realize, is that I'm already tired, I only have my side knife, and anyone coming to find me has no idea where I am. I need to get out of here.

Let me rephrase. The real problem is the full platoon of Alf soldiers that have just entered the hallway in front of me. Fully armed, ready for combat, and numbering somewhere around twenty soldiers. Maybe if I had my armor, maybe if I hadn't blown up the machine, maybe if I wasn't so tired from the vents and the steam, I might stand a chance.

Instead, as the fortress shakes again, I sprint back the way I came, picking a different hallway to make my escape, this time trailed by more than a dozen soldiers. I throw a fireball over my shoulder, it's all I can manage, and it surprisingly took a lot of them off my tail. But not all of them, and they're catching up.

I barely dodge a sword meant for my back. I'm forced to stop and draw my knife. I can't run anymore, I have to fight. I'm still outnumbered, and the run has my muscles burning. I dodge another swipe, then block with my forearm, glad I kept my vambraces on.

For the next several moments, my only focus is staying alive. I don't think, there's no time to thing, just parry, block, dodge, move. I take out one with a burning fist to the face, but I can't rely on my powers for too much longer. I start taking hits, cuts on my forehead, arms, legs. They sting, I push through them; they bleed, I ignore it.

I take down all but one, and when the blow comes, I'm too sluggish to intercept it. It's not the cleanest of strikes, and I fall back against the wall, blood pouring from the ugly gash in my abdomen. It's not a miracle that I don't black out, it's a curse. I get to wait for a killing blow that never comes.

I'm on the floor when my attacker falls next to me, a knife in his back. I cover my wound with my hands, but I can barely feel them. My whole body throbs, but I don't have the energy to cry. A figure kneels next to me; I assume he's responsible for downing my assailant.

"You're not dying on me, are you? I told you this was a dumb idea." Loki's voice is soft and teasing, but his face is terrified. Still, it's a relief and a comfort to see him, even if it's only fleeting. I smile, just for a moment, because he's here.

"No," I pant. "You said it was the wrong idea. I still think I'm right." His hands take over for mine, applying actual pressure. I scream at him, almost blacking out.

"Stay with me!" It's not a plea, it's a command. He sounds angry, but I know it's because he's scared. "You are not allowed to die on me, do you understand?"

I don't respond, I can't. I'm barely hanging on, and he's mad at me, and all I wanted to do was help us win and now I'm going to die. Loki uses his cape as a bandage, trying to stop the bleeding. Every touch aggravates it, accompanied by a cry from me and a frantic comment from Loki.

"This is why we stick to the plan! We barely had enough time to mount an assault! You can't just run off and do whatever you want!" He picks me up, and I tuck my head against his shoulder, crying. He seems to realize then that he's not helping.

"I can't lose you," he tells me gently, but no less passionately. "I won't lose you. Just stay with me."

I try, but soon we're outside and I don't remember getting stretcher is hard beneath me, and the medics have taken over, but Loki is close, hovering over me, long fingers cradling my head. He's yelling again, but it's not at me anymore, it's for Heimdall, for an emergency evacuation. Loki is not the only one trying to get the command station's attention; I can hear Thor shouting too. I know why it's not working, I know the protocol here. I am not important enough to be rescued from the middle of battle, not when it risks enemies coming close enough to tag along.

The pain, and the yelling, and the harsh light of Alfheim's twin suns is too much. I close my eyes, unable to heed Loki's plea that I not lose consciousness again. He is still frantic when I come to again, but he's far away, all I can see is the orange light above me, fuzzing in and out of the vague shape of a body. The pain has dulled, but so has all other feeling. I think I'm drifting away, whether to sleep or death, I have no way of knowing.

"Ally!" I wish he were closer, I don't understand why he can't stay close to me, especially when a voice says to take Loki out of here. I thought the room would be quieter after that, but it's not, people are still yelling. Even so, I slip away, carried by the noise until I can't hear anything at all.

—

"Ally?" I shift in bed, barely waking enough to wonder what's going on. I register that it's Loki's voice calling my name, but that doesn't make any sense. He knows by now that any attempt to wake me before I actually get up is futile. And based on the way I feel, I could use another couple of hours. "Ally?"

My whole body aches as I settle, trying to go back to sleep. It doesn't work, and I am dragged slowly to consciousness by my growing discomfort. I groan in protest. "Let me sleep," I try to say, but my voice is hoarse, almost intelligible. I still don't understand why I'm up in the first place. If it were urgent, the war horns would've sounded. But it was quiet, missing even the normal sounds of the war camp.

I reluctantly open my eyes, trying to see where I am. The light is dim, but I can tell that we are inside somewhere. Asgard. Why weren't we on Alfheim?

Ah. Right. My brilliant plan.

"Ally. Hey, it's alright, I'm here." Loki comes into view, no longer angry, no longer yelling, but tired and bloodshot and I think that's worse. He brushes hair off of my face before going to hold my hand. "You're okay."

"What happened?" I'm not dead, surprisingly, but I'm not sure I agree with the assessment of 'okay.'

"We evacuated you to Asgard, Eir saw to your injuries. I- we almost lost you." He rubs my arm, like he's trying to convince himself I'm still here. "Several times, the Flame stopped your heart, Ally, we think it was trying to go dormant." We are quiet for a moment. I understand, I know I'm lucky to be alive after what happened.

"What about Grand Asylum? Did it fall?"

Loki nods."The assault was successful. They've surrendered now." I don't say what I'm thinking, that I was right to do what I did. He doesn't need to hear it. Instead I squeeze his hand, reassuring him. I'm not going anywhere.

Except maybe back to sleep.

"How's the pain?" Loki asks.

"Okay. It hurts, but it's not too bad." I reposition so I'm a little more comfortable, but that makes the pain flare up. "OW, okay, it hurts."

Loki tucks the blankets tighter around me and fixes my hair again. "Just rest, darling." I bite back a retort. That's what I had been trying to do in the first place. "I'm glad you're okay." I can tell he wants to say more, that he won't let go of what I did, but neither of us are prepared for that conversation.

I close my eyes, starting to fall back asleep. I wonder as I start to relax if Loki will be there when I wake up, and I'm scared that he won't be. I ask him to stay with the last shred of coherency I have.

He chuckles. "Of course. I'm not letting you out of my sight again." A hand squeeze and a peck on the forehead later, I'm gone.


	15. Someday

Age 19

The Fridge

I make a mental note to thank Ezra for the sticky notes. I don't waste one of the sticky notes on that though, I need them for something else. Ezra calls it my murder board, and then we laugh because I'm the only occupant in the Ice Box that's not really inclined to murder anyone. But there's really no good way to describe the wall where I'm trying to piece my memory together.

And to be fair, it does look like a crisised detective's attempt to find a murderer, with the strings connecting bits of paper that I stuck to the wall first with tape and now sticky notes. Not to mention that about a fourth of the writing isn't even English, it's in runes, mostly in place of names. I'm discovering lots about my past, but it doesn't mean I want others to know everything too.

I place the memory of helping Sif and Coulson's team catch Lorelei in its place on the wall. It's the most recent one, I've remembered everything since then: The Spire, trying to control my powers, and the nightmare that sent me to the Fridge. It's a small victory.

The clock reads 2:53 am. I do most of my reassembly at night, because the memories like to come as dreams, but more often than not become nightmares. At least this one wasn't too bad, nobody poured fire on me or tried to fight me in front of a chanting crowd. I got shot though, with a ICER, then fought Agent Ward, and lost. I woke up then, but fell back into a flashback, experiencing the whole memory with no gaps, from the first time I woke up in the interrogation room to getting sent to the Spire.

I look over my timeline, it's mostly linear, and the strings are color-coded for the different people in multiple memories. There's a couple that I can't quite put in order, like the one with the dancing or the maze of mist. But I'm remembering and I think that eventually, it will all come back. At least that's the hope, and Ezra says that I have to think positive or I'll drive myself crazy.

I do try to go back to sleep after I'm sure that I haven't remembered anything else new. Sometimes I wish I didn't have to sleep, but I know when I don't that my powers become harder to control. Not that I can control them quite yet, but certain things help.

I watch the man fall from the rainbow bridge again in my dreams. I know his name, but it's the same name as the guy who invaded New York, because it's the same guy. Except that the Loki in my dreams is often kind and tender, and doesn't let me fall when we dance. And I don't know how someone like that could try and take over the planet. There's obviously a lot that I still have to remember.

Ezra comes to wake me up in the morning, in the loosest sense of the word. He flips on the lights and looks over my wall while I come to some state of semi-consciousness. He tried a different way once. I panicked and set the bed on fire. It was the last time he tried that way. It wasn't the last time I set the bed on fire.

Ezra's tired of sneaking me pillows.

"Come on, Ally. We've got to get down to breakfast on time today, there's a new arrival." I grumble at him, but he's not above stealing blankets, so I roll out of bed to get ready for the day.

I meet him outside my room, dressed in my uniform: a short sleeve black prison shirt and pants that are too big for me. I've told Ezra to stop apologizing for the outfit, it doesn't bother me that I'm dressed like everyone else because I _am_ like everyone else in the Fridge. Like every _thing_ else. Dangerous. I just also happen to be nice and not want to hurt anyone.

Which is why I have Ezra, who followed me here from the Spire. I'm the only occupant in the Ice Box with a case agent. He prefers mentor, and I counter with babysitter and we usually settle on buffer. Ezra's my buffer between the other crazies and my own special brand of crazy.

There's only three of us in the mess hall today, not including said buffer. It's an exciting day when the other enhanced are out of solitary long enough to share a meal, but for the most part, their behavior isn't good enough for that. So my company today is a pair of normal human, but super annoying criminals. There's Ian Quinn, who I punched in the face (on purpose) the first day I was here because he bragged about shooting the SHIELD hacker Skye, and Vanchat, who was also put in here by Coulson's team, and who I almost strangled (on accident) the first time I had a flashback. Even though I didn't know the whole story until last night, it's common knowledge that I worked _with_ Coulson, voluntarily, like a good guy or something, which is only one of many reasons I have not made any friends.

"Hey, Flamethrower," Quinn greets. There's another reason. I have been to solitary twice, and Quinn has made it his personal duty to see if he can push me into going back. But then again, we're all locked up, it's not like he has anything better to do than bully me.

Except of course, flirt with the woman who just walked in, looking stunning even though she's wearing the same prison uniform the rest of us have on. She looks vaguely familiar, older than me by at least a decade, with a striking face and fiery red hair, like mine. She ignores the "Hey Gorgeous," and surprisingly, comes to sit across from me.

"Now I'm definitely escaping this place as soon as possible," she says with a grin. "Care to join me?" I'm surprised, and I look at Ezra, but he doesn't say anything. He's too busy trying to glare at Quinn.

"This place has a hundred floors and is only accessible from the roof," I tell her. "Plus, you're in the Icebox, most of the occupants are enhanced, which means top notch security."

"Well, I don't want it to be easy," she teases. "That's no fun." She extends her hand and I shake it. "Veronika Hanlon."

"Ally Pernix."

"Well, Ally Pernix, what did you do to get sent to SHIELD's maximum security prison?" I pale a little as Quinn and Vanchat reply in unison with their running joke.

"Arson." She ignores them.

"A nightmare," I correct softly, and that's all I want to say about it. Surprisingly, Veronika nods, like she understands.

We eat in silence for a moment, and I consider the turn of events. Veronika seems nice enough, and at the least, she's made Quinn shut up. But this is the Icebox. No one here is as they look, not even me. Just because she's been nice doesn't make her a friend.

"How'd you get stuck in here?" I ask. It's not out of politeness, I want to know if she's the type to play around with people, if this whole thing is a sham.

"Stole some SHIELD tech," she replies. "From the Slingshot, or tried to. Got myself in, couldn't find a thing, let myself get captured so I could ask where all damn stuff went. Didn't expect to be here, but it's a pleasant surprise."

"You're a thief?" I clarify, because I actually think it's cool. She nods.

"I'm many things. So what's the schedule around here?" Veronika asks me, switching topics.

"We spend most of our time in our 'room'," I admit, we both know I mean cell. "Except for meals, a couple hours in the morning and afternoon, and most of the occupants are in solitary right now for behavior or their own safety. They don't come out at all, the guards don't interact with them, and the cells are tiny." I'd be lying if I said that being in solitary didn't scare me, having nothing but my own fractured thoughts to focus on. The two days I've spent in there are where I remembered the worst of my memories so far.

"Sounds like something to avoid," Veronika responds lightly. I just nod and go back to my breakfast. There's an added event on the schedule for me, as the only enhanced not stuck in solitary, and Ezra reminds me of it by tapping his watch. I eat quickly, we might actually be on time today.

"I'll see you at lunch," I tell Veronika, because Ezra's giving me a look. "Don't break out without me," I tease lightly, because I remember that's how she started the conversation.

"That went well," Ezra says as we walk away.

"Right, I forgot how fun _making friends with criminals_ is," I reply dryly. "There's nothing that will go wrong there." Ezra keys us into the elevator, pressing the button for the lab.

"I'm not trying to get you to make friends, Ally, not with this crowd. But you can't hide, it's not healthy. You aren't going to be in here forever." I wasn't sure how much I believed that. It definitely depended on whether or not the Index board decided I needed power inhibitors or not. Ezra was trying to convince them against it, that I needed practice and support, not suppression. He has a meeting next week about it.

He thinks they would let me go back to the Spire if I didn't need inhibitors, and even though I thought that was the best option overall, I have to be honest with myself. It's the most unlikely. They don't let people come back to places they've burned down.

And the inhibitors aren't even close to being ready, that's the whole reason I have to go to the lab in the first place. So the Fridge personnel can poke me with needles and hook me up to electrodes and scan me with machines for the millionth time. They still can't figure out how my powers work. I know how I got them, but the scientists rejected the idea of magic primordial fire residing inside my heart immediately after I shared it with them.

Going to the lab is the least favorite part of my day. It's not the medical stuff, I've gotten used to it enough that the needles and machines don't bother me, though I remember that they used to. Both the human ones and the Asgardian ones.

But the atmosphere in the lab is creepy. They doctors and techs don't talk to me, except for short, clipped instructions. I am not a patient, they have made that clear. I stay silent, they always start with a blood draw. They always need more blood.

It makes me dizzy when they're done, and Ezra has to catch me when I stand to move to the next room. He doesn't like this, but they've threatened to throw him out if he tries to argue.

I wish I knew what the other machines did. They stick wires everywhere, my head, my arms, my chest, my legs. An IV goes in one arm, but they've never told me what's in it. It doesn't make me less dizzy having it in, so I don't think it's fluids. At least now I get to lie down, and the machine whirs and spins around me.

I used to be able to fall asleep in here, and they didn't care, but they've added new wires and as soon as I start to fall asleep, they shock me. Just enough to jump, and get scolded for not holding still.

Some days I don't have to do any of this. That's when we test prototypes, and I don't really like those days any better, but at least it's a one and done thing, instead of a couple hours stuck in here. The prototypes don't hurt, they're just draining.

The techs shock me again and I think it hurts more than it did yesterday. I try to take my mind off of it, but there aren't a lot of distractions. I would talk to Ezra if they didn't tell me to be quiet.

So I notice when some other doctors move through the room, clearly agitated in their low, sharp tones. I catch the words "Daniels" and "outage" as they pass, which is just enough to get my imagination going. Ezra would tell me not to worry, he says I worry too much, but I know I've heard the name Daniels before. He's one of the other occupants in the Ice Box; I've never seen him out of solitary. _He's dangerous_ , is the reason I've heard, the only thing I think Quinn ever said to me without a mocking tone. Dangerous, and not the kind that can be kept at bay by bullying.

I think about it until it's time to go, and I'm so woozy today that Ezra has to take me back to my room in a wheelchair. I always take a nap after lab time, it makes me feel like a kindergartner, but Ezra reminds me that I like it better than joining the others in the rec room. He helps me get to bed, and leaves, he usually takes this time to get paperwork done.

I head to lunch by myself when I wake up, I'm starving, and it's almost too late. I'm not as worried as I usually am, I don't think anyone will still be there, and breakfast wasn't a disaster, so even if there are people, they might just leave me alone.

I'm starving when I wake up, and I walk to lunch alone. Ezra usually has calls to make when he's done with his reports, so I'm on my own this time of day. My face falls as I walk into the cafeteria, it's closed, even though it shouldn't have been for another fifteen minutes. They're ushering everyone out, and I stand by the wall as Quinn and Vanchat pass me. They don't speak, something is off, and they both appear to be playing it cool.

Veronika stops in front of me, slapping an orange and a protein bar into my hands. "We're doing a drill, apparently," she remarks. "Heard one of the guards say 'Code Orange,' any idea?"

I shake my head. "I think Code Black is the worst? But I've only ever heard them say green or blue." Ezra isn't allowed to tell me the protocols, even though he knows all the speaking in code freaks me out. "Where are we going?"

"The common area," Veronika replies. "I'm sure it's fine." I don't know why she feels like she needs to comfort me. We're criminals, we don't need coddling. I make my face look neutral, but that's not what Veronika looks at when she turns in my direction. She's studying my arms, the light coming off of them. Everyone stares, but Veronika seems to make the connection that the light matches my mood.

So she notices when my light starts to flicker faster in response to the mechanical sound of the doors sliding shut and locking. The common area is the most secure room, so they can lock up all up at once. They've even pulled occupants from solitary, people I've never seen before. I don't like this.

There's no way it's a drill.

I take a seat though, wary of Veronika following me. I eat the protein bar and the orange as fast as I can without drawing attention to it. The others are cautious of me, being obviously enhanced. I know I'm not the only one, but anyone else is lucky enough to be able to hide it.

Everywhere I look, people look away, finding someone else to evaluate as a threat. Who they will run from or attack first when the powder keg in the room inevitably blows. I wonder what in Hel possessed the guards to bring everyone from solitary together. It can't be safer this way. Unless the goal is not to keep us safe, but to make sure we slaughter each other if something goes wrong. Maybe I'm overreacting, though. Ezra says I worry too much.

But today my worry is well founded. The lights shut off, even the emergency ones, leaving exactly one light source: me. The other occupants are either staring at me, or starting to punch the whoever is closest to them. I increase my glow, illuminating the room more as a warning than a favor, and leap from my chair. Veronika follows, but she doesn't attack me. I admit I'm surprised.

I evade the few brave enough to advance on me, I'm faster than most of their blows and only hit defensively. I know it can only be a temporary tactic, but the memories of my many battle haunt me. The warrior in them, who fights without hesitation, scares me.

Veronika is not so inhibited. She flings one inmate across the room, and I only realize after the fact that he'd been reaching for me. "We need to get out of here," she yells to me. "Get to the door!" She starts to bulldoze a path through.

"The door is locked!" I holler back. A handful of large and intimidating occupants are already trying; they can't get it open. I do follow in Veronika's wake though, the others have begun to back off. They know this is a fight they can't win.

"You can melt through it!" She doesn't phrase it as a question. I don't argue it, because I've never actually tried it, I haven't actively practiced my powers since coming to the Fridge. I'm willing to try, anything is better than the mess in here.

We're a couple yards from the door when we hear the locks clicking again. They don't sound like they're working very well. But they open, fluorescent light clashing with my firelight glow. It's not a guard standing there, but a man with a wicked grin on his face, staring into the bloody crowd. Staring at me.

"It's your blood they've been pumping into me, isn't it?" he snarls. I remember what the lab doctors had said earlier, about Daniels and an outage. I made the obvious connection. He'd made the lights go out, broken the door. All in search of me. "You're the one making me stronger."

One of the men by the door attempt to sneak past Daniels. The newcomer just briefly brushes him on the shoulder, and the man drops. He's not breathing. "Don't let him touch you!" Veronika warns. She backs away.

Daniels' eyes haven't left mine. He's waiting for me to respond. I don't know what he wants: a confirmation, an apology?

"I guess," I finally say. "I was wondering where it all went." Daniels smiles, and chills replace the fire in my veins.

"Well, then, let's see how strong I can get from the source." He advances as I back up, and the room clears around us. It's a sick game of tag, and I'm determined not to be It. Which means cheating, there's no way I can get around him and there's no escape from the Fridge anyway.

Just before Daniels runs toward me, I let the fire out, it emerges from my skin to race along my arms and face. Everywhere there's exposed skin, there's bright campfire flames. I knock Daniels' hands aside, careful to touch him only where his clothes are. Quick blows on the inside of the arm, hitting pressure points, and then lunging out of reach. A faster step to get behind him, to slam a foot down on the inside of his knee.

I remember where I learned to fight now. It doesn't make it any less terrifying. And he seems to be leeching the light out of me, even without direct contact.

I burn brighter, kneeing Daniels in the side. He's on his knees now, reaching for where I stand behind him. I kick him in the back and turn to run, it's been seconds since we started fighting, but the other occupants who could get out the open door have. Veronika waited for me, and we run to the door together.

I don't make it. Something tugs at the back of my shirt, or rather , it reaches through my clothes to grab inside my back, keeping me from reaching the door. I turn to find a sickening tentacle of black smoke connect to me, automatically attacked by the flames that have begun to burn through my shirt. It's surprising my clothing has made it this long.

But I myself might not make it much longer, as Daniels uses whatever dark force this is to keep me in place. The Flame inside rages against it, but I keep it contained out of fear, as always. Soon I won't have a choice. I fight back as Daniels grabs for me, but he is too close now, and I cannot move fast enough. I am not the warrior my memory wants me to be.

I am, however, still on fire, and Daniels can't touch me for long enough to accomplish whatever he is trying to do. It seems futile. He touches me, my arms, my face, and the fire fades, but only for a moment. He can't absorb all of it, if that's what he's trying to do.

I can use that. It's a desperate call, but I have to make it. The next time he grabs me, I wrap my hands around his arms. I let the Flame out just a little more, a bare fraction of the power that wants to be set free. Daniels breaths it in with greed and out with a scream. He sinks to his knees. It's too much for him, this thing inside of me. He collapses, and I turn off my flames and step away as quickly as I can.

—

"This ends now, Ally, I mean it!" Ezra paces the length of the table, fuming. We're in the conference room, something I didn't even know the Fridge had. But every SHIELD facility apparently has a conference room, so that agents can go on spiels like the one Ezra has been giving me. "This place is a damn mess, and at the very least I'm getting you out."

As it turns out, the doctors in the lab haven't been working on inhibitors or solutions for the enhanced housed in the Icebox, as is their job. Instead, they've been experimenting on us, exploring ways to increase our volatility. Giving Daniels my blood is a prime example. He's back in solitary now, as are most of the other occupants.

"Can you?" I ask. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I'd love to not spend my life in a maximum security SHIELD facility, but it's not like there's anywhere else for me to go."

"Would you cut that out?" Ezra snaps. "You aren't like them, Pernix. You don't belong here. You're not a threat. You're almost in control of your abilities even without the useless inhibitors that aren't being built. Don't you want to live a normal life?"

I'm shocked at the determination in Ezra's tone. He means it. "Yeah, I do."

Ezra smiles like I've finally said something that makes sense. "Then we'll make it happen, Ally, I promise."


	16. How to Save a Life

Age 16

Royal Palace, Asgard

Penit adjusts my headband, declaring me officially ready. It's not technically a crown, but made to resemble one, fitting of a princess consort, which still sounds funny to me when people actually say it. But today isn't about me, even if I'm decked out in a royal get up that's heavier than my armor. Today is about Thor becoming King of Asgard, officially.

We've been gearing up for this for months, years really, and it shows in the excitement of the crowd and the extravagant decorations of the Great Hall. I'd never been in it before today, and peering out from my pre-entrance spot, the sheer massiveness of it overwhelms me. Asgardians are present on all sides, and above where we'll be standing. If this were a battlefield, I wouldn't dare enter it.

"They won't be looking at you," Queen Frigga reassures me. "It doesn't mean you get to slouch, dear, but it's not worth worrying about." I stand up straighter. I really only have two jobs, walk to the front of the room, and stand there, both without falling over, and preferably while smiling and looking dignified.

Loki finally appears to escort me. He's got a guilty grin on his face, he no doubt pranked Thor before coming to join me. I know he's jealous, but I hope he can handle it today. That's what going to Celenia was supposed to help, taking the worry off both of our shoulders.

I take his arm, and we wait for the cue. The Queen leads out before us, and Sif and the Warriors Three follow behind us. Odin already waits on his throne, his one beady eye fixed on me for just a moment. I don't know why he looks at me that way, like he dreads having me around.

The crowd is so loud I have to resist the urge to clap my hands over my ears. Loki shoots me an encouraging smile, and I relax somewhat. I remember what Frigga said. They aren't here for me. And the volume is nothing compared to the sheer roar of the Asgardians as Thor walks down the Einherjar lined path. He's all smiles and swagger, even as he kneels in front of the steps. Sif is not impressed, or so she acts. I know inside she's swooning.

Odin stands, silencing the room with one tap of the great spear Gungnir on the dais. "Thor Odinson, my heir-" I feel Loki stiffen beside me at hearing that, and I squeeze his hand that I'm holding.

"My firstborn," Odin continues. "So long entrusted with the mighty hammer Mjolnir, forged in the heart of a dying star. It's power has no equal, as a weapon to destroy or as a tool to build. 'Tis a fit companion for a king. I have defended Asgard and the lives of the innocent across the Nine Realms, since the time of the great beginning..."

I only pay half an ear to the speech, because Loki has grown restless beside me. I elbow him, and send him a smile. "I'm the only one allowed to be nervous," I tease in a whisper. "Cut it out." He makes a visible effort to relax, but I can tell something is not right.

Eventually, we reach the important part of the ceremony: the oaths. I'll have to speak some myself, when I advance rank, assuming Loki and I go through with the marriage.

"Do you swear to guard the Nine Realms? And do you swear to preserve to the peace? Do you swear to cast aside all selfish ambition and to pledge yourself only to the good of the realm?" Thor swears to every single oath. "Then on this day, I, Odin, Allfather, proclaim you…"

There is silence in the hall and Loki goes completely still. I look up at him, questioning.

"Frost Giants!" Odin announces. I freeze too. _Frost Giants? The monsters in all of Asgard's stories?_ Odin bangs Gungnir on the stone again, before rushing to the door behind the dais, Thor is quick to follow, but Loki turns to me.

"Stay here!" He instructs, before slipping from my grip and hurrying after Thor. I look to Frigga for guidance, but she's already moved to take control of the Hall.

"Everyone, stay calm," she commands, voice magically amplified. "Please return to your homes until the matter has been resolved. Guards, to your posts." With that, she departs, and I follow, with the other elites and the Queen's personal guard behind us.

I wait in the foyer of the vault, where the Palace Einherjar have gathered. Thor bursts out the doors, followed by Loki, wearing an uncommonly concerned look.

"Frost Giants infiltrated the vault," he explains in a low tone. "Thor wants to attack, I'm not sure I can talk him down. Put your armor on just in case, with the sleeves." I don't argue, I just leave, I'll have to be fast.

When I rejoin Loki, he's with Thor and the elites, already boosting morale so they'll join in his mad journey. "And who proved wrong who scoffed at the idea that a young maiden could be one of the fiercest warriors this realms has ever known?"

"I did!" I reply at the same time as Sif. Thor stands between us, looking back and forth.

"True, but I supported you both." Thor continues on his speech and I draw closer to Loki, sending him a disappointed look.

"I'm sorry, I tried," he offers. "Looks like we're on our way to Jotunheim." We ride out to the Bifrost, meeting Heimdall outside. I know what we're doing could be treason, but to be fair, it's not like it's the first time.

Heimdall informs us we aren't dressed warmly enough, and I chuckle. It's the first time I've worn the armor with long sleeves, Jotunheim is cold enough that I have to worry about conserving my own heat instead of warming the others, or I could get too cold to function. I try not to worry about it.

Loki is unable to convince Heimdall to let us pass, but Thor negotiates well enough. I pull Loki along, though he seems quite perturbed to have failed in his persuasion. But he relaxes quickly at my touch, and soon we're preparing to travel. The Bifrost whirls around us, and I stand firm. The journey is no longer frightening, though the destination always seems to be.

Heimdall gives the usual speech, that the Bifrost will stay closed if its opening would with an addendum I hadn't realized. Keeping the Bifrost open meant it would destroy whatever was on the other side. Even this wonderful mode of transformation, something I'd always seen as benevolent, turned out to be a weapon of mass destruction.

With that, we are on our way. Faster than light itself, we rocket through space, and the epic colors bring a smile to my face as always. We land abruptly in a frozen wasteland, the sky almost as dark as Niflheim. I recoil, it's cold, too cold, and I panic, waiting for the icy tendrils that are sure to come and suffocate me.

"Hey," Loki soothes. "She's not here. Just stay by me, burn a little brighter." His hand goes to my back, and I take deep breaths. I amplify my powers, pushing back against the hostile temperature. With some effort, I'm able to keep it at bay, and the others draw close, they can feel it too. That's comforting too, being able to help, and knowing I'm not alone.

Thor takes the lead, and I get my first glimpse at his anger. I know how serious it is that the Frost Giants broke into the vault, but it feels real now. We could be on the brink of war.

Jotunheim looks absolutely devoid of any life. The dilapidated structures around us are made of ice, and more than one crumbles as we pass. It's not completely devoid of light, but there's no visible source. It's a desolate place, no plants that I can see, no animals. Just ice.

We spread out as we approach an important looking building, assuming a defensive position. I extend my glow so it's well lit, though I can't push the heat much farther. Cowards or not, I'm cautious of Jotuns, the tales from Asgard filling my head.

"You've come a long way to die, Asgardians." A deep voice sounds from the shadows, but it doesn't stop Thor.

"I am Thor Odinson," Thor announces.

"We know who you are." I survey the area, and I can just make out one in front of us, sitting on a throne. Laufey, their king. He's ashy blue, with red eyes and ridges on his skin that look like they were carved from ice.

"How did your people get into Asgard?"

"The house of Odin is full of traitors," Laufey accuses. I stifle at it, but there's no way for him to know what I've been accused of. What traitors, then?

"Do not dishonor my father's name with your lies!" Thor's confidence provokes Laufey, and I can see where the giant part of Frost Giants comes in. Laufey is massive, even to Asgardians. I unwittingly take a step back. Coming here was a bad idea.

"Your father is a murderer and a thief," Laufey declares, "and why have you come here, to make peace? You long for battle, you crave it. You're nothing but a boy trying to prove himself a man." Frost Giants fall in behind us, cutting off the escape route. I'm in the middle of the formation, so I can aid whichever side is weakest. I shift so I'll be able to pivot and attack the ambush if it comes to a fight.

"Well, this 'boy' has grown tired of your mockery." Thor is making matters worse now, and I want to stop him, as icy blades grow from the arms of the Jotuns themselves. Loki has the same thought and moves to talk Thor down.

Thor doesn't listen. Loki shoots me a warning glance. _Be ready._

"You know not what your actions would unleash," Laufey warns. "I do. Go now, while I still allow it." I plead silently that we'll take it, and almost sigh in relief when Loki does, even though Thor clearly disagrees. We begin our retreat, the tension still lingering, and for good reason.

The large Frost Giant guard who stood almost nose to nose to Thor a second ago can't help but run his mouth. "Run back home, little princess."

The small, smiling grunt from Thor is all we need to spring into action. I draw my sword and channel heat into it, just enough to make the blade warm. It's an advantage against normal foes, and I wonder what it'll do to Frost Giants. Still, I aim to incapacitate, not kill.

I dance around a Jotun, slashing the back of his calves. I duck at the arm of another, and parry the slash of a third, shattering his ice blade. They grab for me, but I bring my heated sword to every hand that draws near, and the howls of pain join the other sounds of battle.

Volstagg calls out a warning from the other end of the melee, but I've already determined to not let them touch me. I look like a child compared to most of them, and getting locked in a hold could mean death. I search for Loki, but we're too spread out. I'm on my own.

I do see when Fandral gets impaled by an icicle, and I know we have to get out of here. I'm the first to reach him, and I melt the spike while Sif and Loki call for a retreat. Thor commands us to go, and in response, a rumble sounds in the ice beneath. The statue to our left appears not to be a statue at all, but a ravenous beast. I don't have to be told to run.

Fleeing for one's life never happens the same way twice. But the panic and adrenaline are now familiar to me. I know even when the monster seems to fall through the ice behind us, that we aren't out of danger yet. The ice breaks around us, crumbing and making it more difficult to find footing. We're running out of space, out of time, out of everything.

Reaching the edge, we call for Heimdall. But the beast emerges from under the ice, rearing up on hind legs in preparation to smash us. I stumble backwards, but there's no escape, no way out-

Thor, like a bullet, bursts through the monster's mouth. It falls dead, thumping against the ice so hard I think it might break, but it slides off instead. Thor turns to us, grinning like an idiot, despite the army that's gathered behind us. More than we can take, and we have no ground to make a stand.

The Bifrost appears around us, and I stumble back as Odin rears up on Sleipnir, his eight-legged horse. Thor takes it as a sign he'll attack. I know he's here to bail us out though, and that there will be consequences when we return. I use the diversion to return to Loki's side.

Odin and Laufey speak, but all I can tell is that it brings us closer to war. Odin summons the Bifrost before that can happen, and warmth returns as we leave Jotunheim behind. The journey buys us a few blessed moments of silence, but as soon as we land, Odin's voice fills the Bifrost chamber. Thankfully, it all seems directed at Thor.

Loki motions me to go with the elites to the med bay, not to escape consequence, but to at least avoid the majority of Odin's wrath. I ride back, thankful for Asgard's warmth. Eir sends Fandral to the intensive healers, and assesses the rest of us. Besides Volstagg's arm burn and the usual scrapes and bruises, and dehydration for me, we are fine. Incredibly lucky, and without a doubt foolish. We should never have gone.

We take our armor off and head to a side hall, where Loki awaits us with the news. Odin has banished Thor to Midgard. Earth. I know he's likely already gotten himself into trouble, even with what he knows about Midgard from me, it's a far different world. Loki seems shaken by the fact, repeating a nervous motion with his hands, something he does when his mind is elsewhere.

"We should never have let him go," Volstagg insists.

Sif argues, "There was no stopping him."

"Well, at least he's only banished and not dead," Fandral counters. "Which is what we'd all be if that guard hadn't told Odin where we'd gone." That was why Odin has come, he'd been warned. I agree, we could be dead, and Fandral quite nearly was. Loki is still preoccupied with his hand, and I wish he would talk to me.

"How did the guard even know?" Volstagg asks, as a medic rubs more salve into his injured arm.

"I told him," Loki snaps, turning to face us. "I told him to go to Odin after we'd left. He should be flogged for taking so long, we should never have reached Jotunheim." I give him a disappointed look at that, even though I'm relieved Loki had the foresight to do what he did.

Volstagg is indignant, but Loki responds coolly, and I agree. It had to be done, we shouldn't have gone in the first place, but this was the next best thing. Sif takes it as an opportunity to ask Loki to go to Odin and request the banishment be lifted. I know he won't do it, but the vehumancy of his response startles me.

"I love Thor more dearly than any of you, but you know what he is. He's arrogant, he's reckless, he's dangerous! You saw how he was today." Loki's anger is barely contained, and for a moment, I'm afraid he'll shout. "Is that what Asgard needs from its king?" He storms off, barely offering me a cursory glance.

"He may speak of the good of Asgard, but he's always been jealous of Thor," Sif states.

"Does it mean he's wrong?" I argue. "Thor lead us into an ambush today, without a plan, without proper preparation. He started a war."

"We should be grateful to Loki, he saved our lives," Volstagg supports.

Hogun speaks up, a rare occurrence. "Laufey said there were traitors in the house of Odin. A master of magic could bring three Jotuns into Asgard." I am on my feet immediately in defense.

"He would never do that!" I protest. "He would never put us at risk like that." I've read the stories Asgardians tell, about the monstrous Jotuns carrying their children away, and I can't imagine Loki ever putting something like that in a path I might cross.

"Loki's always been one for mischief, but you're talking about something else entirely." Fandral comes to my aid, but it puts the room at odds. It won't come to a fight, we wouldn't just turn on each other, but we are uneasy. I don't want to stay, not with the tension in the room, so I head to my quarters after the awkward silence becomes too much.

I find Loki there, shaking like he's seen a ghost. I go to him, worried. "What happened?" I take his hands, but he wrenches them from my grasp.

"I- I didn't mean to-my father- he's entered the Odinsleep." My face falls, and I find Loki's eyes.

"We knew it was coming," I remind him, "and with what happened with Thor, it's no wonder the stress took him." While I have no love for Odin directly, I've seen the effect his magical coma has on those around him. And I do care for Loki and Thor, and Frigga. "He'll be okay."

Loki shakes his head, his eyes are wide with fear and I don't understand, not even after he speaks in short, trembling half-sentences. "I yelled, I didn't mean to, I didn't know how bad it was, I was just so angry-"

"Hey," I interrupt, pulling him into a hug. He stiffens and doesn't hold me back, so I let go and go back to holding his hands. "Breathe for a second. I don't understand, you're not making sense."

Loki seems to grow calmer, but doesn't relax, like he's ashamed. So many emotions from him that I've never seen, all bubbling up at once. Whatever happened has him rattled as bad as I've ever seen.

"I'm not who you think I am," he started again. "Ally, I'm a _Jotun_ , a monster…" Loki stops talking, but I start to understand, though first I have to believe.

"What are you talking about? What do you mean?"

" _Odin_ ," he says the name like a curse, "took me from Jotunheim as a child, he told me it was for peace, and all my life…" He looks at me with horror and sadness. "It's all a lie."

"No, it's not," I argue. "Of course it's not. You are still you, no matter your birth."

"A monster," he snaps. I don't question he's a Frost Giant, with the way he's reacted, and I know enough about magic to understand why he doesn't look it.

"No more than me," I protest. "If I don't get to be one, with the Flame and everything Eldmara forced me to do, you aren't one either." Loki won't look at me, but I tilt my head and look into his eyes anyway. His gaze is far away, like it's going through me.

"You saw what they are, what they do. There's good reason we warn our children of them. I'm the reason you can't go home-"

"Stop that," I scold Loki, using the same tone he used to use on me when I worried about the Flame making me a freak. "Loki, I'm the reason I can't go home. You are not a monster."

"Look at me." He pulls his hands free again and holds them up. I watch as they turn to a pale blue, covered in ridges. I look up at his eyes to find red ones staring back at me. I flinch in spite of myself. "You can't, can you?"

I hold his gaze stubbornly. "Of course I can. You look like you, Loki. You're just blue." I can feel the cold coming off of him as he continues to stare through me. I grab his hands again, I'll shake the truth into him if I have to. But when my skin comes into contact with his, we both recoil in pain.

With both our powers uninhibited, we do what fire and ice always do on contact. My skin is red where we touched, his grey. Loki stands swiftly and backs away from me. "I'm sorry," he cries. "I shouldn't be near you, I'll hurt you, I can't-"

"Wait, stop, what are you doing?" I try to follow him, but it only quickens his pace. "Loki!"

He faces me, the blue disappearing so his are green when they meet mine, and filled with fear. "What?" His voice is hard now.

"Don't leave," I plead. I don't want him to feel alone. I understand what it's like. I just don't know how to say it, not when he's so close to leaving.

"Why? What do you want from me?" He's getting louder and I have to fight to stay calm.

"I need you to calm down. I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere, it's going to be o-"

"It's not!" He yells. "Everything has been a lie. Everything I've ever done. You- you're a lie. One I tell myself everyday." My words get stuck in my throat; it hurts to hear this from him.

"Loki-"

"No. I can't. I'm sorry, Ally." He leaves and I feel powerless to stop him. I almost cry, but that won't help either.

 _A Jotun._ I can still hardly believe it. I'll stand by what I said though. Our actions are what define us, not what the world makes us out to be. Loki taught me that, and I'll make him remember it. But I'm worried I'll just make him more angry if I go to him now. Better to give him space, or at least I hope so.

* * *

I sit at the base of the throne, I don't know if it's proper, but Loki doesn't say anything and the guards don't stop me. I won't leave him, I've made my point and I have to stand my ground.

"Allfather, we must speak with you urgently." Sif and the Warriors Three approach the throne, shocked to see Loki lounging on it.

"My friends," he addressing them, and I have to work hard not to flinch at the cold edge in his voice. He explains that Odin has fallen into the Odinsleep, and I lock eyes with Sif. I don't know what she reads in them, but I catch a small nod. "You can bring your urgent matter to me...your King."

Those are the only words he's said to me since our fight, informing me that he's been proclaimed King regent in his father's ailing absence.

They kneel, somewhat reluctantly. Sif never lowers her head, staring up at Loki's towering frame. "My King, we would ask that you end Thor's banishment."

Loki chuckles. "My first command cannot be to undo the Allfather's last. We're on the brink of war with Jotunheim. Our people need a sense of continuity in order to feel safe in these difficult times. All of us must stand together… for the good of Asgard."

I realize what it is in his voice now, it sounds empty. Like he's doing what he thinks he must, but there's no conviction there. Just impersonal emptiness as he stalks toward Sif. Not a trace of the panic of before, and very little of the man I consider a friend.

Sif stands to protest, but Fandral and Hogun hold her back. "Of course," Fandral accepts, though his eyes shoot me a warning.

"Good, then you will wait for my word," Loki commands.

But Volstagg gives one last attempt. "If I may beg the indulgence of your Majesty to perhaps reconsider-"

"We're done!" Loki declares. I do flinch this time at the raised volume, but he can't see it. The Warriors Three stand and leave Sif standing to glare at Loki, before she leaves as well.

Loki slowly faces me. I can't read his expression, but he can read mine. He pulls me to my feet. "I know you're worried, but it'll be alright, I promise." He presses a kiss to my brow, but that feels empty too. "Go get some rest. I'm going to visit my mother." It's like he's trying to ignore what happened between us.

"Loki?" I ask, trembling. "I meant what I said, you know." I want him to understand that.

He hesitates. "I know." Loki wraps me in a hug, but it's still loose, stiff. Like he's still afraid to touch me. What used to be my biggest fear, is now his. He leaves without another word.

I go to my room, but I don't rest, not even close. I have Penit help me find the plainest clothes I can find, the closest I have to Midgardian attire. My heart thunders in my chest in disbelief at what I'm about to do.

"I trust you, my lady, but is this really the right thing?" she asks.

"I don't know," I tell her, but my mind is made up. Something is off about Loki, and we need Thor. Sif and the Warriors Three have made too much of a fuss, they're under suspicion. But Loki won't suspect me.

I ride for the Bifrost.


	17. This is Why We Can't Have Nice Things

Age 15

Royal Palace, Asgard

"Are you coming to court today?" Loki asks, walking into my room without any other greeting.

"Yes? I come every week, you make me, remember?" I usually stand awkwardly behind him, watching the proceedings and having no idea what's going on. "I'm still not sure what I'm supposed to be learning."

"This is a part of Asgard, Ally. It's important you understand how all of this works," he insists, for the millionth time. "We have a plan, and that involves bringing Eldmara to court. If you can help manipulate things from your end, we'll have a better chance of throwing her in the dungeons where she belongs."

That's where the tension is stemming from the fact that in a week, I'll be back in Eldmara's clutches. We'd almost avoided it, but the stunt I pulled on Alfheim put a mark on my record, and legally, Asgard couldn't fight for me as a ward of the state any more. I still don't understand it all, even after months of study. I just know I'm going back, and the new plan is to catch Eldmara in the act. The act of torturing me.

I asked him when we started this why we couldn't just tell her no. It was wrong what she'd done to me and what she was doing to Mina and the others. It was illegal by modern Asgardian law, Eldmara couldn't just ignore it anymore. Loki had agreed with me, but didn't have a good answer. Frankly, neither did Odin, but he insisted that we had to play by Eldmara's rules, by the old laws. Loki thought that Eldmara must know something, a threat she's been holding over his head.

None of that has to do with court today, but that's where we find ourselves. To its credit, it's not like every other week, a delegation of merchants and ambassadors is here from Vanaheim. They want to change the commerce agreement, and open more regular travel between them and Asgard.

I do my best to follow along, but I'm lost quickly in the Odin's spiel about the importance of the Bifrost and the dangers opening regular travel presents. I've perfected my pretending to pay attention face though, and I make it to the interim without falling asleep.

As usual, I am encouraged to socialize with the newcomers, and as usual, I linger on the outskirts of groups and listen in. Sometimes Loki is with me, but today he's deliberating with Odin and Thor, deciding what they want to say.

Fandral is here today, not surprising, chatting with a group of women, but I choose to go stand by Hogun instead, who's greeting some friends of his. He's a little more open around his own people, and it's interesting to see. I become aware of one of them staring at me, and when I catch her, she leans over to her friend. I barely hear what she says.

"I didn't think they let mistresses attend court meetings." Her friend giggles. I'm not entirely sure what she means by that, but her tone is mocking. She continues to observe me until I wander away, back in the anonymous safety of the crowd.

She is the one that speaks when the court reconvenes, and the listless tone of the meeting is destroyed by her case for extensive commerce policy changes. She argues viciously with the wizened import advisor. She promises many things that Asgard has wanted for a long time, and her plans for those things are incredibly solid, even from my understanding. I pay attention the whole time, a first for me.

"The Nine Realms were once the most feared empire in the universe," she drove the point home. "Our place in the universe has slipped and will continue to evade us. Bloodshed is not the answer, it may have won our place, but it will not sustain us. We must strengthen our internal trade in preparation to win the respect of those worlds around us and regain a foothold in the galactic scheme."

She moves to step away, but Odin asks her what her name is, a courtesy he hasn't given any of the other speakers.

"Lady Mari, Your Majesty" she replies with swaggering confidence. Mari makes eye contact with me again before she steps down. She's the last speaker for their case, and it doesn't surprise me that Odin accepts their proposal, albeit with a couple amendments.

The court adjourns and I'm left to my own devices again, but I don't have to be here anymore, so I head to my room and change into my armor. The training grounds are quieter than usual, there's no conflict to prepare for, but there's friends and familiarity.

I warm up and start a spar with Sif, who beat me down here from the court meeting. She doesn't mind mingling with the crowd usually, but I think she knew I'd come down here and want to train.

"Stop blocking with your forearm!" she calls out to me. "You won't have armor in a week and if you try that move without it, someone will break your arm, assuming they don't shear it off." She comes at me again and I barely manage to parry without using my wrist guard. I know it's an impractical move, but it's a hard habit to get rid of.

And even though I came down here to blow off some steam, my mind is still on Mari for some reason. Not just what she said, but how she looked, how vicious she was talking to the panel. Sif takes advantage of my distracted state, and I find myself flat on my back, her sword at my throat.

"Is something wrong?" she asks as she offers a hand to pull me up. "Are you worried about leaving next week?"

"No, I mean, yes, but that wasn't what I was thinking about," I reply, taking her hand. "That new girl in court today? Mari? I think she was making fun of me, but I don't understand what she said."

Sif smirks. "I knew she couldn't be all grand ideas and revolution, she's playing some angle. What did she say to you?"

"I think she called me a 'mistress,' but I don't know, the way she said it…" Sif's face has already grown serious, and maybe a little angry.

"Did she say it to you directly?" Sif asks harshly. I shake my head.

"No, she said it to one of the other girls." I still don't know what's going on. "What is it? What does it mean?" Sif explains it to me as concisely as she can. I blush furiously. It's not the first time someone in the court has made similar comments, but Loki had quickly dispelled them, and assured me it wasn't going to be a problem.

"Come on, we'll take it to Loki," Sif suggests. "He'll know what to do, besides run her through." Sif shoots me a look that's half smirk, half frustration. It gets me to relax a little, but not smile.

We find Loki in the courtyard, still talking with some of the guests. He regals them with a story, one of my favorites, and I notice Mari watching him with a careful eye. She's not with the group, but talking with the other noble girls, courtiers and relatives of prominent Einherjar. They didn't attend the court business, they don't rank that high. Most of them are kind enough to me, though a few like to start rumors. I wouldn't hesitate to join them if it weren't for Mari.

Loki finishes his story and walks over to Sif and I with an unwavering smile. He likes telling stories, getting reactions out of people. But his expression darkens as Sif explains what happened in a harsh whisper.

"I can't say I'm surprised," he mutters. "She's been pushing boundaries all day, trying to see who she can play with. If she likes what she finds, I'm sure she'll ask to be the official liaison so she can stay on Asgard."

Sif scowls, and I stare at the ground. I still don't understand what's going on.

"Hey," Loki soothes. "I'll take care of it." He offers me his arm and I take it. We walk over to Mari and wait patiently for a break in conversation.

"Lady Mari, I'm afraid I didn't get the opportunity to introduce you to my ward earlier. This is Captain Ally Pernix, from Midgard." I bow, feeling awkward in my armor.

"Yes, I believe I saw you at the meeting." Mari nods at me.

"Ally is our youngest decorated officer," Loki continues, "she won us several important battles in Alfheim." I can't help but turn a little red, and wonder how this helps.

"That's very impressive," Mari responds. She sounds sincere enough.

"We're very honored to have her in our service," Loki says.

"I'm sure you quite enjoy being in her… service." Mari puts a strange emphasis on the word and the sentence doesn't make sense. Loki just said I was in Asgard's service, not the other way around.

" _Watch your tongue_ ," Loki warns. "I am your prince, my relationship with my ward is entirely proper."

"That's a shame, she's quite pretty." I turn bright red and shift a burning gaze to the ground. Mari must have realized she overstepped, because she is quick to speak again.

"And of course, if you ever do feel like setting aside propriety, my door is always open, my lord," she says. "And trips to Vanaheim may very soon be easier."

"I'll keep that in mind," Loki responds coldly. "But remember your place, Lady Mari." She just smiles and curtsies, taking her leave.

"Don't you pay her any mind," Loki tells me. "She's just trying to cause trouble. She'll be gone in a few days, and if she comes back, I'll take care of it before you return."

"And if he doesn't," Sif teases, "I will."

I don't see Mari much over the next few days. I'm not invited to any of the smaller meetings that take place, committees working out sections of the new treaty. Loki has to attend them, but I spend my time with Sif and the other elites, training or hanging out. They're good friends for pretending I'm not being shipped off to play bait in less than a week.

Loki surprises me one evening, escaping the meetings early. He leads me to the banquet hall where a feast has been set, with all of the elites and the nicest of the court bunch. Penit attends as a guest, and Frigga is there, sitting next to Thor, but Odin is absent. "We're not celebrating your sendoff," he clarifies. "But I did want to celebrate you."

I smile, taking my seat next to him. The feast isn't extravagant, but it is all my favorites. True to his word, neither Loki or anyone else mentions my imminent departure. It's just a nice night that happens to be about me.

As the meal is cleared, the dancing begins. I'm still not confident about dancing in front of other people, but Loki's leading and my friends are either too drunk or too interested in their own partners to notice my flailing. And I do enjoy it, after I get comfortable being out there. It's fun.

After an hour of my favorite dances, a livelier song begins to play, and Loki's eyes get that dangerous gleam in them. I send him a suspicious look, but before I can say something, Thor cuts between us, taking my hands and leading me away. He's excited, and dances off beat, but it gets me laughing.

It's not even a full minute before Fandral is cutting in, and that lasts about four seconds before we run into Volstagg, and then it's his turn. I spend this whole time laughing, I don't know what the point is, but it's hilarious. They're trading Sif around too, and I would think she would hate it, but Thor literally picks her up to dance with her and she's smiling.

Hands on my waist pull me away, and I'm dancing with Loki again, all the way out the door to the balcony. No one seems to notice us slipping away. Outside the sun has set, and the lights of the city twinkle up at us. Stars of all colors mirror them, painting the sky in clouds and streaks.

"I have something for you," he says quietly. "I know you won't be able to take much with you, but I wanted to give you a reminder." He pulls something out of his pocket, holding it up so the light can catch it. It's a necklace, with a gold chain and a small teardrop emerald.

"It's a promise stone," he explains. "It records any genuine promise made in its presence. Should the promise be broken, the enchantment will cripple the promise breaker with excruciating agony." I stare up at him.

"It's beautiful," I tell him, "and don't take this the wrong way, but why is that a thing?"

Loki chuckles. "We Asgardians take promises very seriously. And because if I fail you, I deserve that pain." He fastens the necklace around my neck.

"I promise that I will find you, elskan. And I will always protect you, I promise." The gem at my throat glows and feels cold against my skin for a moment.

"You never did tell me what that means," I murmur. "Elskan?"

Loki smiles. "It means darling, or dear one." I blush, which only encourages him. "Though I quite prefer switching it up to catch you off guard." I turn even redder.

"You are quite radiant, Ally. I'm sorry it turned out this way, I never meant for you to return to Eldmara. But I will find a way to catch her, and bring you back." He pulls me into a hug and I know how much he means this. He's taken it personally. But it's my fault we don't have more time. I decided to infiltrate Alfheim's most secure military base on my own so we all didn't unnecessarily die.

"I can take it," I tell him. "I did it before and I'm stronger now. It'll be okay." Loki smiles at me.

"Of course it will. I'll make sure of it." He leads me back inside, where the group is laughing and more than one table has been overturned. The dancing is apparently over, and together we retire to the sitting area.

Thor and Loki switch off telling stories, old tales and war sagas and once the ale has gotten to them, they tell stories about me. My victories, from their perspective, are those of a hero. Some are exaggerated, but others…

Normally it would make me uncomfortable. It's not like I did any of it for attention. The Niflheim quest, the Alfheim war, I was just trying to help. But to them, I've earned a lot of respect. I belong here.

For the most part.

Unfortunately, unlike most Asgardians, I cannot party all night. When Thor catches a second wind and starts everyone on a round of drinking songs, I lean back on the couch to listen to them. My one experience with Asgardian ale left me so dehydrated I set a war camp on fire, so I don't partake.

It's nice to be with them. I won't have this in a few days, I'm not sure I'll have anything for awhile. But I'll come back to them, to this. Loki promised. And with Eldmara out of the way, it might just be possible for me to go home, or at least visit.

Loki sits next to me. He's got a grin on his face, and not the wild, adventurous one. It's more honest, like he doesn't even realize it's there. He offers me my favorite pillow, his shoulder, and I gladly accept. I'll have to head to bed soon, but for now I'm content to sit here.

I drift off there, despite the noise. It's not the first time, I've learned I can sleep almost anywhere. I stir upon being moved, hearing Loki assure Frigga he's got me. I offer a sarcastic comment in protest, but judging by his reaction, it does not come out understandable. He continues to chuckle at he carries me down the hall.

"Go back to sleep, my Radiant," he says quietly. "I've got you." I'm not awake enough to protest, but it's not the first time he's carried me to bed. I turn, pressing my face into his arm, and fall back asleep.

The night before I'm to return to Eldmara is filled with nightmares. The things that she did to me, the places we've been, all come rushing back. When morning comes it finds me with bloodshot eyes and a racing heart.

Penit helps me dress in the clothes I've picked out for today. Not my armor, it didn't feel right. And not a court dress either, but a nondescript tunic, sturdy pants and boots. I'm not sure if she means to make me fight again, but I'll only play along as far as I have to.

Loki arrives with breakfast, which we take on the balcony. We go over the plan one last time, though I know it by now. Leave with Eldmara. Scope out the temple of Hagalaz. Let Eldmara believe that I'm the same scared kid she dropped off here. Endure whatever she puts me through. Loki will be monitoring me with magic as best he can without getting detected by Eldmara's own sorcerers. When I catch Eldmara doing something undeniable evil and illegal even by her standards, I'll signal him. And the nightmare will be over.

But first it has to start, and it doesn't matter how much I love Asgardian pastries, I'm too frazzled to eat. I tell myself it's just a mission, that I can handle going back, but just thinking about it makes me want to back out, as if it's a choice.

Loki notices, pulling his chair over and taking my hands. "Glow for me," he asks quietly. I do, focusing on my hand. It's an old habit now, but the trick helps remind me. "Remember, you are in control. It doesn't matter what she tells you, Ally, or what she does. You're in control of your actions."

"I'm scared," I admit. I don't want to go.

"I know. I know you're scared. But it won't be for long, you know that. I will always come for you, I promised I would." He pulls me into a hug. It's tight and forceful, and I know he hates this as much as I do, because usually he's more careful with his augmented strength. "And you know I would stop this if it didn't mean all out war."

"I know." We've run every scenario, considered every option. This is the only way we can get Eldmara to stop hurting people. And that's worth it.

It's not long before Eldmara comes to collect me. We meet her in the throne room, and her piercing gaze sends my eyes to the floor. But even if I can't look at her, Loki can, and his hand on my shoulder brings my view back up to the room.

"I've come to collect my property," Eldmara calls out. Odin looks bored of the conversation already, but he does have the decency to correct her.

"Your _charge_ , my lady." Odin gestures for me to move forward. Loki squeezes my shoulder and lets go. Every step makes my heart beat faster. Soon I'm standing behind her, and the air already feels colder.

"Ally Pernix is an Einherjer Captain and an elite warrior," Odin tells her. "We release her to you care to honor our previous agreement, but her station remains. Treat her accordingly." It sounds nice, having Odin tell her not to mess with me, but it's also part of the plan. We know it will provoke her.

"I thank you for making good on your promise," Eldmara replies coolly. "She'll be of much more use trained." Like Eldmara understand the concept of training at all. My body already hurts at the thought of it.

She doesn't waste time leaving, and I catch one last glimpse of Loki before we leave. He nods and smiles, and then he's gone. Her skiff waits to transport us to the temple. Nobody looks at me, she hasn't addressed me, but the atmosphere has changed since we left the palace. Once we're in the air, Eldmara turns to me.

"Whatever delusions they've filled your head with, you'd do well to forget them." Ice curls around me and I want to cry, scream, but I don't, I can't let her win. I can't play along. "Nothing has changed, my little Holocaust. You're just more useful now. Understood?"

I don't answer, I can't answer, I can't stand to give her what she wants. Eldmara glares, and the fingers of ice that are crawling up my legs and around my arms tighten, biting into my skin and hissing as the heat evaporates it.

"What are you?' Eldmara yells. I don't answer. "What are you?"

I don't make a sound, don't even cry out though it hurts. Later I wish I would've. Eldmara scowls and the ice encases me, completely freezing me. I can't breathe, can't ignite. Sheer panic keeps the pain fresh, and even after the ice dissipates, the fear doesn't leave.

Because I've been frozen long enough that we made it into the temple, into a room I recognize. Cavernous, filled with pools of various liquids that are not water. This I know.

I can't do anything but kneel on the floor, even if I could get up, the two guards next to me would force me back down. I look up at Eldmara, and notice Mina beside her.

"What are you?" she asks. I'm shivering now, as the Flame tries to recover.

"Holocaust," I whisper, because if I don't, she'll do it again, and I can't handle it.

"Good," she says. "Let us depart." More panic. Our plan rests on the fact that I'd be here, on Asgard, where Loki's magic can reach me. If I leave the realm, he won't be able to find me. Eldmara grins at my expression.

"Don't worry, my Holocaust, we'll do our work on Asgard soon enough. But first, I need to see what you can do." She grins wickedly. "How much death you can cause."

The sorcerers start their work, pulling liquid from the pools to create a spinning ring in the air. When the portal is ready, I am pulled through, and we leave Asgard behind.


	18. Girl on Fire

Age 15

Outskirts, Alfheim

The manacles are a new addition.

I hadn't needed them before, Eldmara was enough to keep me cowed and in line, but I'm not that sad, terrified little girl anymore. I'm a captain and a lady and I'm in control of my powers, every part of which infuriates, or maybe scares Eldmara. Maybe if I'd done a better job playing along, I wouldn't have had them slapped on less than a day after we left Asgard.

My wrists still hurt, even though it's been weeks since I broke them, trying to see if I could slip the manacles and escape. There's no plan now, but if I could get away, call Heimdall, surely they would bring me back. But the metal around my wrists has been enchanted, and there's something wrong with the ring around my neck too. Unless Eldmara wants me to use them, it inhibits my powers, leaving me weak and dizzy.

The only positive was that Eldmara had her minions put them on me before making me change clothes. The promise stone is still there, pressed against my neck so hard I think it's cut me. But it's there, reminding me of Loki's promise. One that he can't fulfill. Because I'm not on Asgard.

We're on Alfheim, in the Outskirts, in towns that I've visited before. They don't recognize me, or I hope more than anything that they don't recognize me.

I sit up, brushing dirt off my arms and the red dress I've been wearing for the past week. There were two identical ones before that, I burned them.

"Holocaust?" I flinch at the name, I could endure it when it was a taunt, but now Eldmara never calls me anything else, and the others use it on the rare occasion they address me. I miss the sound of my own name.

I don't answer her with words, just move to where she'll expect me in front of her tent. I know the routine by now. Stare at the ground while she scolds me for not taking better care of my appearance, which is a direct result of her mistreatment. Nod at the list of menial tasks she assigns me. Stare at the ground some more as she yells because somehow in all of that, I've disappointed her. And repeat.

Today, it's laundry. I almost laugh, because we have sorcerers who can literally do this with magic, but Eldmara would rather attempt to demean me by making me, gasp, _do chores._ It's ridiculous, because I don't mind, and it's better than the other things she threatens to make me do. Laundry doesn't hurt anyone. Neither does cleaning or hauling equipment or starting the fire at night.

All that bluster and effort about getting me back and I'm no more useful than any other kid she's got working for her. Because the one thing she wants to use me for, I won't do, and none of her sorcerers have figured out how to force me. The day they figure it out is the day it's over for me. Until then, I get chores.

When the laundry is done, I wait next to the fire for more instruction. Once, the first week, I took my time, sat outside of camp for a while, trying to break out and get clear. Retribution was swift, and I haven't been left alone since.

"Holocaust, you're done early." Mina's the only one who uses the name with hesitance, the closest thing I have to an ally. "The mistress wants to see you fight."

It always comes back to this, Eldmara's favorite pastime. Pitting me against her lackeys, violence and destruction. Everytime I finish early.

Eldmara is lounging on her palanquin when I get there, and as always, the ice creeps up my back just being in her presence. I don't know if it's me anticipating her attack or if she does it to unsettle me. Mina unlocks the manacles and takes them off, but leaves the collar around my neck.

"Don't disappoint me this time," is all Eldmara says for now. She motions to one of her minions, standing aside from the others. He's massive, larger than Thor or Volstagg. I remember him, remember how many bones he broke.

I dodge the first punch and before he can throw another one, I've already kneed him in the groin, nailed him in the diaphragm, and as he keels forward, wrapped an arm around his neck from behind. It's the best way I can think of to bring him down, he's too sturdy for a knockout punch from what I remember, and I can't reach anyway.

He gets a grip on my upper arm and throws me over him. I land on my back, unable to breathe. I feel the rib break as he slams my chest and I roll out of the way. Gaining one sparse breath, I push myself up. I have to dodge again, he's getting faster now, a dumb smirk spreading across his face.

I get to the side of him and swing my leg out to sweep him. It's not the brightest of moves, I did it on reflex. He's too big to go completely down, but I get him to his knees. Kicking his chest is like kicking a wall, so I go for his head instead, even though it throws me off balance. He hits the ground, tries to push himself back up, and falls back into the dirt.

"Finish him," comes Eldmara's command. I look up at her sharply.

"No." I know defiance like that will be punished, but she won't make me kill. "It was a spar, I won."

"Do you think you're a soldier, Holocaust?" Eldmara rises from her spot, striding toward me. The chill intensifies. "Do you think you have honor? You have one purpose."

Ice forms tight around my wrists, forcing me forward and off balance. I glare at her. "Holocaust, you're bred for destruction. Your purpose is to bring death, as much as you can, wherever you go. Asgard will be reborn in your flames, and my love will return to me."

"I control the Flame," I retort. "I won't be your weapon." I receive a vicious icy backhand for that one, and I can feel blood dripping down the side of my face. A perfect moment for Loki to appear with a handful of soldiers to witness it and arrest Eldmara. If it were Asgard, I'd be home by now. But this isn't Asgard.

"You will obey me!" The ice grows up my arms, locking them at painful angles. I cry out softly, trying to fight it. The light inside me pulses and the ice steams where it comes into contact with my skin. I don't let it go anymore than that, to prove my point. I control the Flame. "Kill him!"

"No!"

"You may be able to fight now, girl, but you cannot defy me. And eventually, you'll have to use that fire inside you, just like before." The ice is up to my neck now, and down to my waist. If it wasn't holding me up, I'd be on the ground.

"Go to Hel." I grit my teeth and try to ignore the pain. Almost my whole body has pins and needles now, and there's tears mingling with the blood on my face.

"Soon, Holocaust. She'll come soon enough." The ice encapsulates me, cutting off all sound but my frantic heartbeat. The ice is agony against my skin, it doesn't melt against the heat, just evaporates and refreezes, over and over, mind numbing.

She lets me out eventually, when the sun has already set, and the fires have burnt out. I struggle to restart them, I have no energy to impart. Once last slap in the face.

I get the wood to spark, at least it's dry, and as the fire builds, I draw from it's warmth. Not for long though. Rough hands replace the manacles around my wrists and drag me away, just far enough that even when the fire is roaring, I can't feel it. I'm left shivering. Eldmara's ice isn't natural, it leeches more than heat.

I'm not out of earshot though, because Eldmara is the closest thing to a banshee I've ever encountered. This time it's Mina she's directing her anger at, though I missed what for. Legitimate excuse or not, the result is the same. Mina gets frozen, despite her hands glowing with whatever defensive spell she was trying to conjure. She gets left out to defrost next to me, so the fire won't do her any good. Unfortunately, I can't help her either.

Too tired to move but too cold to sleep, I lay there in the dirt. I'll recover eventually, but it's a grueling process. I stop shivering about the time that Mina starts, having dropped from her block of ice as it dissipates.

"I don't know how you take it, Ally," she chokes out. I jolt at the sound of my own name. "I'm sorry."

"Is that really the first time she's iced you?" I ask. It's like Eldmara's favorite thing. Why resolve things normally when you can just freeze your enemies in ice and beat them up?

"First time with a spell in my hand. It makes it worse, having that extra energy ripped away. That's how you are all the time, and Mistress does it to you almost everyday." I'm surprised Mina's so coherent, but maybe talking helps.

"It's not like I have a choice," I say. "I won't do what she wants, not ever. Why'd she get mad at you anyway?"

"I detected some magical interference, someone is trying to spy on us. I did my best to block it, but Mistress was angry it happened at all. I couldn't help it, but you know how she gets."

I have to fight to contain my excitement. It has to be Loki, it has to. He's looking for me. He'll come, I know he will.

"Yeah," I say. "I know." I wonder if she'll help me, Mina has always been the closest thing to kind. But I'd have to make a compelling case to overcome the fear of Eldmara. "But what can we do?"

"Nothing," Mina is quick to say, and my hope falters. There's too much fear in her.

I fall asleep there, on the edge of our camp. The other elites used to joke that I could fall asleep anywhere, but what used to be a talent is a lifesaver, or a curse depending on the night. Tonight I'm grateful, sleeping helps me to heal, and I'm warm when I wake.

I let myself watch the suns rise, one after the other. It's beautiful, combined with the gold and green scenery. The way the rosy dawn light sparkles off the leaves and casts whimsical shadows on the ground is stunning. I wish I had time to admire it.

I approach Eldmara's tent again, but something is wrong. The camp is too quiet. There's less of Eldmara's people out, only the perimeter guards, and some of the less important kids. I know Eldmara stole some of them from the last village we visited.

As I wait, I observe, looking for where everyone went. Nothing feels right. She's never taken this long.

A flicker of movement catches my eye, and I barely avoid the fist that shoots out of the tent next to me. More figures emerge, some with weapons, some with magic. It's an ambush, and I'm at the center.

The manacles make it incredibly difficult to defend myself. I can't even think about attacking, not when I'm weaponless and just trying not to die. I try using their attacks to break the chain, but all I end up doing is deflecting them and it's not enough.

"Kill them!" Eldmara screeches from somewhere. I can't see, but there no ice, so she can't be directly in the fray. " _Burn them._ "

I take that to mean she's disabled whatever magic is in my collar, but I don't want to obey her. I use my powers, but sparingly. They won't melt the manacles, and most of Eldmara's slaves aren't much older than I am. I won't kill them. I won't kill for her.

I don't know how injured I get before they get me to the ground, but after that, it's all over. They beat me mercilessly, and I can barely defend my head. I can't see, I don't know if I've been blinded by magic or by blood. I scream, but it doesn't slow them down.

There's only one thing that would, and I realize I can't use it. That's what Eldmara wants, me using the Flame, lashing out. I can't give in.

It'll stop soon, it has to. If they were supposed to kill me, I would be dead already. If I'm alive it's because they have orders to leave me that way. I just have to hold out, take the hits.

Wait for someone to knock me unconscious.

When I come to, I can barely breathe. Everything below my neck is an indistinguishable pulsating agony. I almost black out; I can't tell what's broken or bruised, only that it hurts.

"Hold still," a voice says, not unkind, but not gentle. I'm being prodded, or maybe bandaged. I try my best to not move.

The pain fades along with consciousness, and I loop between pain and blackness. The voice stays, the same one, but I don't recognize it. It's not surprising, I don't get tended to very often. Good thing I heal faster than normal humans. I get fed sometimes, or given water, but I'm never awake for very long.

One time it's not the medic there, it's Mina, and she looks troubled. I barely register it, I'm cold, I can feel the ice on my skin. I curl automatically, what hasn't gone numb still aches and I can't deal with Eldmara right now. Her voice, her demands, I can't possible do what she wants now, I'm too injured.

 _Just leave me alone,_ I beg silently. _Just leave me alone._

"Relax," Mina says. "You need to rest. Mistress is outraged, she was sure it would work, and instead they almost killed you. You'll need your strength for whatever she's planning next, it won't be good."

"Cold," I mutter in response.

"They covered you in ice, to keep the swelling down, I think. You're a giant bruise, Ally." Mina shifts some of it, and they panic subsides, but a part of me would almost prefer the pain.

"What happened to letting me die?" I say. "That was the company line before, if I died holding the Flame, Mistress was just going to bond someone new to it. Seems like less trouble."

"Mistress waited years to find someone who could, it was all just bluffing before, I think," Mina replies. "Plus, she knows the throne would come after her. You're important, Ally, you know they'd shut Eldmara down if they knew what she was doing."

I almost want to scream. That was the plan, but the hope of it died as soon as we left Asgard. Now there's no plan, and no escape.

I sleep to escape the cold, and when I wake, I'm stiff. But I'm warm, alive and unchained. And as a first since we've been here, I'm in one of the tents. There's a dress, another red one, but it's clean and whole. I change as quickly as I can, I don't know when someone will be back to put the manacles back on.

There's food and water too, and I don't hesitate to take it. I wonder why I'm being treated so civilly, if it's another tactic Eldmara is trying. Somehow I doubt it. I'm just too valuable to kill is all.

I debate leaving the tent. Another ambush could be waiting for me outside, and while I can walk, I won't be able to fight. I assess my injuries. Mina was right, I'm one big bruise. Some bones were broken, I can tell, but I must have been out for days, maybe a week. They've mostly healed.

The flap rustles and I look up in caution. It's Mina again, and I don't like the look on her face. It's like she's trying not to worry. "Mistress is waiting for you."

"Can I say no?" I gesture to the tent. "Seems all I needed for an upgrade was to get beaten to death."

"Ally…" Mina's voice is low, serious. "She thinks she's figured it out, how to make you use the Flame."

My heart drops. "I won't do it, she can't make me. It's impossible."

Mina shrugs. "Eldmara's convinced, and Ally, if it isn't voluntary, it could kill you. Either you choose it or you could die."

"Then I'll die." Better that than be Eldmara's weapon. To use, over and over, bring all that death she seems so fond of. Mina doesn't respond to it, just holds the flap open for me.

I walk out as confidently as I can, immediately facing Eldmara's icy glare. She's back in her ceremonial outfit, blonde hair coiled around the Crest instead of blowing free like normal. Our dresses are the same shade, but hers is more ornate, accentuated by gold.

"Holocaust," she greets coolly. I resist the urge to tell her I have a name. "I have a proposition for you."

"So I've heard." I don't like this. She's never treated me like this, she must be desperate to think it will work. It also means that Mina might be right.

"I need the Flame, and you're the only one that can use it." Eldmara isn't screaming, and somehow that sparks more dread. "At least, more than once."

"No."

Eldmara raises an eyebrow. "You haven't even heard what I have to say."

"There's nothing you could offer me that's even remotely tempting," I counter. We both know she won't give me my freedom, not without committing some atrocity, and it's not worth it.

"There really isn't? You fall into line and you'll get everything you ever wanted, once my beloved arrives. Home on Midgard, that prince by your side. Never fearing, never in danger."

"At the price of how many lives?"

"As many as it takes." It's sick, how cavalier she says it. Like those nameless people she's already planning to kill don't matter.

"No."

We stare at each other for a long time. I don't shy away from her gaze, even though my heart's beating incredibly fast and the light on my arms shines out behind the bruises.

"Take her." I don't fight the hands that come forward, reattaching the manacles and the collar. My necklace gets pressed against my throat again. But it's still there, and now it's a comfort. I think I would've made Loki proud, making that choice. I'll never know.

They drag me along, back to my normal spot outside the tents. I'm not there for long, they just need somewhere to put me while they pack up camp. We're moving again, and I know I won't like where.

It's a town I recognize, one of the bigger ones. It was our last stop before Grand Asylum, where I infiltrated by myself and almost died. We didn't do much fighting here, there weren't a lot of enemy soldiers. Just families trying to make a living, who appreciated an army who paid fairly for much needed supplies.

We make out way through the village, houses and huts thrown together in Alfheim's carefree way. There's a mix of technology here, from the more modern that eclipses anything I've seen on Earth to tents made purely from cloth and branches. I thought it was beautiful when we came through before, peaceful and exciting. Now I'm suspicious of everything. I don't trust my own company this time.

We reach the town center and people already give us strange looks. Eldmara surveys them, amused like she's watching children at play. She nodded, almost imperceptibly. Her goons move, disappearing in the throng of people.

She looks at me, but we don't move for quite some time. Waiting for the others to get into position. The ones who have stayed are magical apprentices, like Mina. She doesn't look at me.

When we've waited long enough, two of them force me to the middle. Eldmara faces me, and already the ice creeps toward me. The cold makes me shrink, and I stare at the ground.

"I do hope you survive this," Eldmara tells me. I wish she'd go back to yelling. "But if you don't, I hope this is enough."

The ice creeps up my leg in one deliberate tendril, constricting bruises and barely healed bones. It circles my torso, I can hardly breathe. The Flame grows restless, flickering just slightly on the surface of my arms. She's taking her time on purpose, but I won't use my powers. I won't lose control. She can't make me.

The ice coils around my throat like a noose. The villagers have begun to notice that something is wrong. They move to get out of the way, retreating into homes and shops.

The cold doesn't stop at my collarbone, just changes direction. It goes _inside me_ , through my skin to my heart pounding harder and harder. The Eternal Flame pushes against it. I will it to stop, keeping it under control.

But it's not stopping. It's building, gathering energy. I can feel myself getting warmer.

"Stop," I tell Eldmara. "Stop it."

"It's working." She smiles, and makes it colder. I cry out, the stabbing pain sends me to my knees. I fight it, as hard as I can, but the Flame feels threatened. If I die, it dies. And it won't go down without a fight.

Fire erupts from my heart, tearing it's way through my body. I scream, the cold is gone but it's been replaced by fire, and for the first time in over a year, it burns. Just like it did the night I bonded to it.

One eternal moment of agony passes in nothing but fire. It stabs straight though to my heart, my soul. I'm ripped apart, each part burning.

And then everything ends.

Waking is a surprise, but not a pleasant one. My stomach rolls and my limbs feel like ash, nothing holding them together. I cry out, and water trickles into my mouth, hitting my paper dry throat and making me cough. The light stings my eyes when I open them, and I keep them shut.

"You should've accepted my offer," a voice says. Eldmara, clearly satisfied. She walks away.

"I'm sorry, Ally," Mina whispers to me. She gives me more water. It helps, but I still feel physically sick.

I can't do this again, can't let it happen. I don't know how big the fire was, how many people it killed. I have to get out of here before Eldmara can do it again. And I'll need help.

It's hours before I can open my eyes again, and even longer before it's just Mina and I again. I work up the courage to speak.

"Mina," I whisper. "You have to help me." She looks surprised and uncomfortable. I know she doesn't want to risk it.

"The princes, they're looking for me. We had a plan, but they didn't expect us to leave Asgard. If you can get a message to them, let them know… They can stop her." It's out there now. Mina could betray me, go straight to Eldmara and tell her.

"Okay," she says, slowly and quietly. "I'll help you."


	19. I'll Make a Man Out of You

Age 13

Training Grounds, Asgard

Day 1

"I can't," I tell Loki, fidgeting nervously with the cuffs of my new uniform. Even though it was tailored for me, it's still a little big. I stand a whole head shorter than all the other recruits. I'm glad not to be training with them yet. It's only my first day, and apparently, I'm a little too volatile to train with other people.

"Ally, I saw you do it, the first day we met," Loki reminds me gently. He's smiling encouragingly, but I stop looking at him in favor of staring at the ground.

"I can't do it like that anymore," I mumble. "It won't be small anymore. It's always too big." The small amount of control I had over the Flame is gone, ever since Sakaar. I can only use it the same way I did in the arena: large destructive bursts.

"Hey, it's okay. I need you to try anyway. You won't hurt me. I can shield with magic, and then we can work on controlling it." My stomach twists, he's being so patient with me, and I still don't think I can do this.

I have to though. If I can't go with them on the Niflheim quest, they'll have to send me back to Eldmara. The thought of it makes me shake.

"Just show me what happens," Loki prods again, and this time I nod. He steps back, and a swirling green energy surrounds him, like a tint in the air between us.

I close my eyes and just barely tap the power inside me. It's like a flood gate, and when my eyes open, everything is on fire. Or at least, everything around me for about ten feet. I cry out, and try to make it go away, but it just keeps burning.

"I can't stop it!" It's starting to grow past the initial burst, and I have no way to tell if I'm pushing it or if the flames are just following their natural destructive course.

"It's okay," Loki says, skirting the edge. I look at him with worry, he's going to hurt himself getting that close. "I'm fine, I'm shielded."

He looks at me, and I realize with horror that my clothes have caught fire, even though they're supposed to be fireproof. "Ally, just breathe. Make it stop, control it."

"I can't!'

"Okay, okay, then just stop feeding it. Take a deep breath, wait for it to burn out." He's even closer now, standing in the flames. He's not close enough to touch me, and there's obvious effort to hold up his magic. "Just breathe."

I do what he says, deep breaths in and out. I can do this, I have to, or Loki's going to get hurt trying to help me. I don't fight the fire, but after a moment, I sense something. I stop giving it fuel, and eventually, the fire right around me stops, though a good portion of the training ground is still on fire. Loki mutters a spell, and it fades too.

I'm not happy though, it happened just like I said, and I don't know if I can get it to change. I look down at my clothes, surprised to find them looking untouched. But I feel like I'm only covered in ash.

"An illusion," Loki explain. "Don't worry, I can't see under it." He's close enough now to touch me, but I'm still surprised when he does. I can't have cooled enough to make that hand on my shoulder comfortable. "I'll work on the fireproofing, now that I know what we're up against."

I don't know what to say, I've gone back to staring at the floor. The sounds of metal clanging and soldiers shouting reminds me of why I'm really here. I can't get to that point if I keep catching fire. "I'm sorry, I couldn't stop it, I wanted to! It was so small before, I don't know what changed."

Except I do know what changed. Eldmara made me fight everyday, and the fire is the only thing keeping me safe.

"Ally, you did stop it," he tells me. I don't look at him. "Hey, no one got hurt, you didn't damage anything. Well, besides your clothes, but we can fix that."

"But I can't control it."

"Ally, you're holding an incredibly powerful source of energy. It's a miracle you can hold it the way you can. You could control it before, and you'll learn to again. I'll help you."

Day 5

I shove the now familiar panic down and focus on letting the fire die. The circle around me is smaller, and it takes less time to go out. But the whole point of this exercise was to not ignite at all, and I haven't succeeded yet.

Loki takes the pot from me, hand encased in protective magic, and rinses it off, filling it back up again. He sets it beside me, and waits for me to cool before taking my hand. At least we solved the fireproof issue; I'm covered in ash now, but my clothes are more or less intact. No nosebleed yet either, I haven't overexerted myself.

"Okay, let's try something else," he says. "How much do you understand about the Flame?'

"Not a lot," I admit. "I can feel it inside me, I can tell when it gets… bothered. I know it's powerful. And it's, well, _Eternal_ , it doesn't go out like other fires." I wish it did, then I wouldn't have to worry about all this. I could go home.

Loki nods, and then elaborates. He likes explaining things. "The Eternal Flame came from Muspelheim, it's the intrinsic power of the whole realm. It uses to be held by Surtur, and the histories are unsure how exactly the Flame made it to Asgard, but my ancestors did defeat him. It's powerful, yes, but not untamable. You're only holding a part of it."

"It just, it seemed so natural before," I tell him. "It took some concentration, but I could turn it on and then turn it off and it wasn't much." I can tell Loki is thinking about it.

"From what you've told me, it sounded like Eldmara made you use your powers quite often." I nod to confirm. I haven't told him most of what happened on Sakaar yet, I don't like thinking about it.

"So it's like you've exercised it, you've increased it's basic capacity. Turning it on is the same, but the Flame has… gotten bigger. It's used to being explosive. You have to retrain it to do what you want it to do."

"Which is why you're having me boil pots of water."

"Yes."

"But all I've done is catch fire, I can't just focus on the pot, fire just comes out."

"Hmm." Loki's considering something, and he looks perplexed.

"What?"

"We have to break it down more," he explains. "Do you understand how fire works?"

"Yes? It needs air, something to burn, and something to start it." I learned it in school, on some field trip. I wish I remembered the fancy science words for it.

"Yes, and the way the Flame works is similar, it needs air, but it has its own energy start it, and it feeds off of what you give it. But there's another part to it. The Flame is magical, it doesn't obey the rules of normal fire. Its functions can be separated, used independently."

"What?" I'm not sure what he's saying.

"Forgetting the more complicated parts, fire is conceptually two things. Light and heat. The Flame can be used as both, in the form of fire, but also individually. You're already doing it subconsciously, you glow almost all the time. If you focus on just one aspect, heat, then maybe it'll help you gain control over it."

I'm following, just barely, but it's worth a try. "So just think about warming up, not lighting a fire?"

"Try it." He scoots back, not out of a comfortable range for me, but I know he won't move any more. I take a deep breath, and cup my hands around the bottom of the pot. Just heat. Mentally, I try to engage my powers, begging them to just make the pot warm.

I erupt in flames. Loki throws up a spell just in time, a curious look on his face. He's never disappointed in me, but I do plenty of that on my own. "Sorry!" I shout.

"It's okay, we can figure this out." Loki waits for the fire to die out, more patiently than I feel. He takes the pot again, filling it back up. We'll go until I get too tired to continue, repeatedly getting set on fire is exhausting.

"Try putting your hand in the water." I look at him sideways.

"I thought I needed air."

"For fire, yes, but maybe not for just heat." I guess that makes sense, so I stick my hand in the pot, watching pieces of ash float off into the water. I concentrate, just thinking about my hand and how hot it is.

The water begins to bubble almost immediately, and then the singed sound of water evaporating precedes me catching fire. I remove my hand from the pot. Once the fire and smoke clears, I can see that Loki is grinning.

"See? You did it."

"I still caught fire," I say, "but it felt different." I take the pot over and rinse it off myself this time, and fill it up. "I want to try again."

Day 57

I burst into flames, but a smile comes with it. Only my arms are covered with fire, and there's no panic, only control. Two months of working at it everyday and all day, and I can finally control the Flame.

I fire at the targets Loki throws into the air, dissolving them with short bursts of fire. He thinks with a little more work, I'll be able to throw fireballs. I hit almost every target with good aim.

Loki runs at me, and I extinguish the fire almost automatically. I'm hot enough for our next exercise, but there's no exposed flame to catch things that get too close. He tries to grab me, but I counter with the three self-defense moves I know so far, elbowing him in the diaphragm, twisting and knocking his chin back with my head, and kneeing him in the groin. He's still telling me to hit harder on that one.

I run after that, into the room that's been magically darkened to hide all outside light. It's pitch black, exposing me and my glow. I take deep breaths and concentrate, focusing on not glowing at all. It takes a lot of effort, but slowly, my hands and arms go dark, and then my face. It helps that my chest is covered by my shirt, but I can never quite get it to stop glowing entirely. The Flame sits in my heart, and I can't stop it completely.

There's a noise in the room, and I know Loki has come to find me. I hold completely still, holding my breath, even though he's not supposed to use sound to track me. He likes to cheat though.

I jump a whole foot in the air when his voice sounds in my ear. It didn't take him as long this time, which means I have to do better. I lunge forward and change goals, focusing on glowing as brightly as I can. This takes even more effort, since instead of shutting both functions down, I have to concentrate on just light, while keeping the heat down.

I try to illuminate every part of the room, but Loki's magic pushes against me, simulating the mists on Niflheim. I pour all my concentration into it, and my head starts to pound. The room comes into view, and then becomes clearer. It's almost daylight bright in here, and I keep going, expanding my reach. Blood starts to drip from my nose, but I hold steady through the dizziness.

When it gets to be too much, my whole body catches fire, but I shut everything down immediately. The room goes back to being pitch black and I sink to the floor. Loki stops me from hitting the ground, a glowing psychic construct in his other hand. It won't last long in here, so Loki wraps an arm around my waist and deposits me outside.

"That was well done," he says, handing me the canteen he carries around while training. I drink, draining it. We've discovered that half the reason I felt so crappy on Sakaar was dehydration. The Flame makes my body use up water too fast, and I have to consistently replenish it.

"I can't stop glowing," I say, but I'm not that frustrated. We've already discussed this, the tailors are working on clothing that can hide it. "You cheated."

"Just keeping you alert," he teases.

"I should go again," I tell him. It's not like we can rest every twenty minutes on Niflheim. I have to get my stamina up.

"Take a minute, you're exhausted." He hands me a handkerchief and I clean my face off. "I worry what will happen if you push yourself too hard."

"And I worry about what will happen if I push myself too hard on a death world with no way back. At least if I do it here, Eir can help me." The head healer has taken a special interest in my case; I have to go in every week so she can monitor the Eternal Flame.

Loki sighes, but I can tell he's relented. He fills up the canteen again, making me drink another one. "Don't forget, tap out before you pass out."

"Where's the fun in that?" I tease. I think it's better for me to go until I can't any more, plus I like getting an exasperated look out of Loki.

Day 63

"It's too heavy." I complain. "How am I supposed to fight in this?"

"It's armor, Ally, it's meant to protect you. Do you need help with the straps?" Loki is trying his best not to tease me, but he's got an amused look on his face.

"I need help walking. I'm telling you, it's too heavy." I lift my arms to show him, I can't even bring them even with my shoulders. "I'm going to fa-" I fall back, off balance, and the resounding clank echoes in the armor room, mocking me. I can't even roll onto my chest to push myself up; so I lay there like a stuck turtle.

"Help!" I cry, trying to be heard over the sound of Loki laughing at me. "Don't just stand there! I'm gonna be late!"

Loki hoists me up, holding me steady. He tightens the straps for me, which only makes this more of a death trap. "You'll get used to the weight, I promise."

"Not if I die first." It's the smallest training armor in the armory, nowhere near as heavy real battle armor. And I can barely carry it.

"You're not going to die," he chuckles. "Do a practice lap for me, you'll be fine." I stick my tongue out at him and I start jogging. I'm painfully slow, and the armor drags at me.

"I'm telling you, it's too heavy!" When I look back at Loki, he's got a frown on his face.

"You should be able to carry this, Ally, it's child's armor." I spin in a slow circle, teetering halfway through and falling over again.

"Ow! Can I take it off now?" Loki comes over to help me undo the straps and as soon as I'm out I give him my best 'I told you so' look.

"Stupid Asgardians and their stupid too heavy armor!" I declare. Loki sends me a chiding glance, but changes to a more understanding one.

"I'm sorry, I really thought this would work. We'll find some leather armor for you, you'll just have to be careful not to burn it. I'll talk to the blacksmiths, see what they can do."

"Thanks." Twenty minutes later, I'm lined up with the other recruits, wearing a leather breastplate and arm guards over my tunic. My sword is lighter too, and I've never held one before today. I stand out from the metalclad boys, and they watch with different levels of interest. It's embarrassing, I've never known a boy who had a crush on me, and now is not exactly when I'd like them to start.

I follow every order I'm given as best I can, but I'm uncoordinated in the moves. Granted, so are the other recruits, but they have the advantage of belonging here. They've known for years they were going to end up in this training ground, fighting for this army. I'm supposed to be at school right now, learning algebra and Shakespeare and what you're actually supposed to do when a boy has a crush on you.

We run through basic sword stances, and the trainer knocks me on my butt a couple dozen times before I get it. I don't notice until we're almost done with the exercise that I'm not the only one. Everyone is learning. One kid manages to land on his own sword and gets whisked away to the medical wing.

And tides continue to change. Basic training is brutal, but not as high pressure as Sakaar. I'm fast when I run, with my lighter armor. I learn more quickly as the day goes on, and by the end of it, I'm doing better than most of the recruits.

Because I'm the only one who's actually been on a battlefield before. I'm the only one who's actually killed anyone. I'm the only one who understands exactly what is at risk.

Day 104

I tighten the straps on my newest set of armor, leather still, but for a different reason. We tried going back to metal once I completed basic training, but when I use it with my powers, I dehydrate too fast. Like an oven. But magically reinforced leather works just as well for what I need, at least for now.

"Keep your grip higher," Sif instructs. She's the only female member in Asgard's army, one of the elites. There's only a handful, Fandral, Volstagg, and Hogun, known as the Warriors Three, and Tyr, head general of the Einherjar army. Thor and Loki count too, being princes, but otherwise being an elite is only for Einherjar who perform incredible acts of bravery on the battlefield.

I adjust my grip and track Sif with my eyes. I'm more comfortable with sparring now, after the disaster last month. I know this is just training. I'm not in danger. I don't have to kill anyone.

Sif comes at me, harder than before, but still slow. I parry as best I can, trying to keep technique. I ranked third at the end of basic training, but that was against the other recruits. Now I have to work harder to keep up.

I'm doing okay, but Sif only goes easy on me because she has to. Time and time again, I end up on the ground, her sword at my throat. The day I'm able to do the same to her is the day I make Einherjar. Loki assures me I won't have to in order to go on the quest. I plan to anyway.

Sif helps me up, and we run through my key mistakes. She likes pointing them out. I like learning how to not die. Then we spar, again and again. I end each day covered in bruises, and thanks to my healing, most of them disappear by morning.

"Don't swing that way, it's too easy to trap," Sif calls out. She then demonstrates what she means by twisting the point of her sword around and ripping it out of my hand. I shake out my wrist, it hurts.

Sif comes over to talk to me, handing my sword back. "Remember Ally, you're smaller and limited, but that doesn't make you-"

"Any less powerful, yeah." It's not the first time she's said that, but I'm still working on feeling it. "Use everything at my disposal, but only if I'm sure I can execute it." That one is Loki's, but Sif nods in agreement.

"Let's go again," Sif instructed. "Make your strikes cleaner and faster."

Day 149

I parry the flail with my sword, barely keeping ahead of Hogun's blows. I wouldn't think a ball on a stick could move that fast. But it does and it's scary.

I dance away from the blows, trying to get on the offensive. There's just so much to avoid, one good hit could knock me to the ground, and if I'm too slow I could lose my sword.

I push myself faster. All the recruits that are left in my group are watching. Some of them have already fought an elite, and those have all sustained injuries. This is our first taste of what a real fight is like, against an enemy that isn't holding back.

I land a blow and keep pushing. I never stay inside Hogun's reach for longer than I need to, and I fall into a rhythm, getting a couple more hits. In a trick move though, I find the flail slammed into my chest, hear the sound of bone cracking, even with the armor. I yelp, sinking to the ground. I hold my sword up, the spar isn't over, but Hogun easily knocks it to the ground.

Another flail hit to the back sends me to the ground, and the flail thuds next to my head, signifying a fatal blow. I've lost the spar, and I pull myself to my feet. I can't stay, I have to get out of the way. Pain shoots through where I hit, hot and familiar. At least one broken rib.

I stumble off the grounds, to the waiting area. We have to sit through he rest of the spars before we get medical attention, it's part of the training. You can't walk onto a battleground unfamiliar with pain.

The recruits that have already gone are feeling it. I see a handful crying, myself included, though I'm trying to fight it. A couple's eyes are glazed over, unaware of anything. The one who went first is bleeding still, and fighting passing out.

I lasted just as long as any of them, and most of them defended the whole time. Still, all of us have a long way to go before we can defeat an elite.

The next spar ends surprisingly quickly, and very bloody. The kid has a track record of not fighting well, he likely won't make the cut. He sits dazed on the bench, losing blood.

I take a roll of bandages from the basket they gave us and go over to him. Ouzt, I think his name is. I do know all their names, but I've never been one who can keep people straight. But I can help, Loki teaches me basic survival skills on my days off, as well as answering my many questions about magic and Asgard and the vast universe.

I wrap Ouzt's wound as best I can. It's not a pretty job, but it'll keep him from losing too much blood. I get him some water too, and some for myself. I don't mind helping out, better to practice now than not know what to do if something like this happens on our quest.

And when the next recruit gets injured, I'm not alone in helping out. We aren't really a unit, we train together, but we haven't been given a reason to unite yet. This though, realizing we can help each other when we're in pain, starts to bring us together.

Day 196

"You ready?' Ouzt asks.

"Hel no," I reply. "I'm about to get the uskit'r beaten out of me. Age fourteen is still too young to die though." That had gotten a rise out of everyone at breakfast. Not only was I the youngest recruit, the gap between me and the next was a full century. Even though I'm definitely the most mature. Happy birthday to me.

I shake out my arms, trying to relax. It's Einherjar day, the first of many. I don't know who I'm facing. But I am the first to go, based on rankings. But there's no hard feelings anymore between recruits, we've grown close. We work together, train together even when we aren't required to.

I fidget with my armor one last time, and check my sword. I'm ready. I step out to the sparring ground and come face to face with Volstagg. Massive, dangerous, and not holding back.

I hear a chorus of voices behind me wishing luck, but I'm going to need much more than luck to win this fight.

Volstagg sprints toward me, and for just a second, I can imagine what it's like to be a bowling pin. At the last moment, I sidestep, draw my sword, and strike. I had hoped it would throw him off balance. It does not. I simply don't have enough force.

From there, it's sword against battle axe as I try to find an opening. I use my speed, getting blows in, but none of them close enough to fatal. I also take hits, glad that my armor has been magically reinforced and is holding up. I'd already be dead without it.

Pushing through a cracked rib, I land a kick to the inside of Volstagg's knee. He goes down, but kneeling, he's still almost as tall as me. I jump on his back, using my knees to hold on so I can pull back his head and put my sword to his throat.

Right before I can get there, I find myself flipping over him, landing hard on the dirt. I can't breathe, can't see. And after a sharp pain to my forehead, I can't feel anything either.

When I come to in the infirmary, my whole group of recruits is there, looking mildly uncomfortable but happy to see me awake. They sport a plethora of wounds.

"I told them the last thing you wanted to see when you woke up was a bunch of sweaty boys," Loki says from my bedside.

"And we told him there was no way we were gonna let you be alone on your birthday," Ouzt answers, and the other boys nod in agreement. "Especially after you lasted longer than any of us did." Not every recruit is on board with that statement, but the sentiment is nice.

"To Pernix!" Someone else cheers, and I smile, glad that my friends are here.

Day 231

"You can't beat me," Loki says. "No one has ever made Einherjar by beating me."

"But Thor and Sif both say they've beaten you in spars."

"As elites, not as recruits. They put me on the roster to greenie bust, you saw what happened to that big brute last week." I had to admit, Egil had an ego and needed to be knocked down a peg. He was just behind me in rankings. Neither of us had made Einherjar yet, though a couple had gotten lucky against their opponents. But none against Loki, and apparently no one ever had. And he, Tyr, and Thor were the only ones who I hadn't tested against yet.

"They're still gonna make us test," I argue. "I can be hopeful. And I'm not gonna fold because you think you can scare me."

"Ally, I can't go easy on you," Loki shot back.

"I'm not asking you to. But I'm good, and I know you better than anyone else I've sparred, so I've got a good chance." Loki just chuckles. Part of me knows that I'm being naive, but I just really want to get this test over with. Most recruits average nine or ten tests before they make it.

"You'd have a better chance if you used the Flame." I try to argue that, but he cuts me off. "It's not technically cheating; Thor got to use his powers for his test."

"It's not that," I say. "I'm just worried about hurting people."

"Ally, you've got to trust yourself. You have the control you need. We can practice more if you want, but you can do it. And we Asgardians are more than durable enough to survive that kind of spar. I promise. Who do you think Thor practiced his lightning on?"

"From the way he wields it, I wasn't sure he practiced at all," I grumble. Loki laughs.

"We can handle it, I promise."

"Can we practice?" I ask, then grin. "And if I beat you in practice, does it count?"

"No, but it doesn't matter. You can't beat me."

We warm up and work up to sparring with my powers. Adapting them to the fighting style I've been taught has been a struggle, since I need a hand free to use my powers and a longsword is a two handed weapon. But we've figured a couple tricks out, though it's difficult finding opportunities to use them.

Once I've warmed up, we spar seriously. Loki promises not to hold back. I'm fast enough to stay alive, but just barely. That's why I have to use my powers. I try to anticipate his movements, defensively all I can do is cover myself in fire. It's not super effective as far as deflecting blows, and I can't sustain enough heat to melt a blade unless I maintain contact.

But it takes a lot to make yourself hit someone who is one fire, at least for a moment. Even Loki seems cautious, though he gets over it too quick. I lose the element of surprise and just barely avoid getting a dagger swipe on my forehead. I get it now, he's not holding back. But I'm too embarrassed to tap out.

I wonder if he'll stop if I get risky enough. It's these kinds of moves that are going to win me a spot anyway, so I've got to practice. I heat up more, but stop the flames as much as I can. He won't be able to see it, but if I can get a hold on him, he'll feel it.

I dodge his knives, becoming deliberately slow with my sword. A swipe comes close enough to me and I drop my sword, grab his wrist, and use his momentum to push him to the ground. I keep a hold of the wrist, twisting Loki's arm so I can keep him in place and sit on him. I'm mostly just surprised I got to this point. I pull out one of my on daggers, intending to land a lethal blow.

But my weight isn't enough to keep Loki pinned, and in seconds, I'm disarmed and switched positions with him. The knife is pressed to my side, and Loki is grinning. I scream. The pain comes white hot, like I've actually been stabbed.

"Ally?" He looks down, realizing what had happened. I've softened the leather with my powers, breaking the magic and leaving it weak enough to break with just the slightest pressure. Leaving a dagger about two inches into my skin.

"You stabbed me!" I yell.

"I'm sorry!" He's panicking now too, taking the knife out and keeping pressure on my side. It's not deep, or threatening, but it hurts. "I'm sorry, I didn't know! Cool down, will you, you're going to burn my hand off!"

"I thought Asgardians were durable!" I retort.

"It doesn't mean it's comfortable!" He places my hand over the makeshift bandage he made and picked me up. In relation to the other wounds I've sustained, this really is more like a paper cut, but we're keyed up from the fight.

"You know what else isn't comfortable? A stab wound." Loki lifts me into his arms, and I see his half panicked, half annoyed face.

"You know what?" I tell him. "Put me down, I'll walk." Loki stares at me for a second and starts to laugh. I do too, but it hurts. Loki puts me on my feet, but keeps an arm around my waist.

"You know, I let up on you there at the end, just to see what you would do."

"Sure," I tease. "Sureeee." We walk to the infirmary.

"It was a good move," he concedes. "It just doesn't work on me."

Day 254

I stumble off the sparring field, exhausted. I failed against Tyr, but I'm conscious, which is a small victory. My team welcomes me back to the waiting area, I came closer than I ever had.

"You were so close, Pernix," Egil tells me, shaking his head. "If he hadn't leg swept you, you would've made it."

"It came out of nowhere," I agree. "And I can't clear it, I couldn't jump it." I'll have to ask Loki how to get out of that one later. We've been practicing a lot lately, not just weapons either, but hand to hand. Neither one of us likes the idea of me being unprepared.

"You just need to grow a couple feet," Egil teases. "Are you sure humans get any taller than this?" I punch him hard in the shoulder.

"I kick your trash four spars out of five, Egil, so you better fear me actually getting a growth spurt." I take the bandage he offers and press it to the cut on my arm. I can match Tyr's technique, but not his tactics. The result is lots of bruises and no winning.

"Pernix!" Ouzt comes running around the corner, worried. "They've got you sparring again!"

"What?"

"They put you on the roster again, you spar as soon as Holchr finishes. And he's against Sif, he's gonna sit there and fawn at her until she knocks him out." My stomach drop, and I look for Loki, but he's not here. He's with the other elites, on the other side of the field. And he can't change the roster, he can't help me.

And there's only one person I haven't tested against yet.

"I'm gonna die," I groan. "Thor's gonna pummel me."

"Just fold," Egil suggests. "You haven't yet, and they won't penalize you for it." I glower at him. I'd rather get knocked out again than yield a fight.

"See you in the infirmary." I move back to the warm-up area and grab a fresh sword. It isn't weighted right, so I grab a different one.

Thor is equally as confused when I step out, like no one told him we were testing either. He could call it off, I suppose, but maybe he can't, because he doesn't say anything. Thor just raises Mjolnir.

It's a strange experience fighting a war hammer with a sword. There's no stopping it or catching it, just deflecting, and trained as he is, Thor tends to prefer just swinging it hard in any direction he can. Plus, it's covered in lighting. With every clash of our weapons, a tingle shoots up my arm. I realize as we fight though, that the Flame is counteracting most of it. I've already got too much energy running through my veins for the electricity to hurt me.

I take a hammer to the chest when I'm too slow to deflect it. Every muscle in my body aches and just briefly, I consider yielding. But I can't do it. Even though it's admittedly the smart thing to do, I can't find it in myself to back down mid-fight.

But if I'm going to end this, I'll have to pick a different strategy. I push myself to go faster, feeling the weight of the fatigue. Every small shock that makes it through throws me off. The Flame inside me is angry, and I realize that if Thor's lightning can't hurt me, then the Flame probably won't hurt him.

But I can use it to win.

We wear the same kind of armor, durable, magical leather. Thor's got metal accessories, but essentially, it's the same thing. And I already know my powers can weaken it. The trick will be to stay alive long enough to burn a hole through it.

I pick a spot on his side, and use my sword to shove Mjolnir away. Letting go with one hand, I press it to his armor, heating through it as much as I can. I don't have the concentration to just use heat, so my whole arm erupts in flames. It makes me tired, and I'm almost too slow to drop my hand and block the next blow.

I can't use the same move twice, Thor's too smart for that. I find another opening and heat up the same spot, but only get half the time. Thor will have caught on by now, I'll have a hard time getting another hit and it'll have to work.

I push back, trying to take the offensive. The moment the battle starts to shift, I switch to a one handed grip, slam a flaming hand into the weakened leather, and let go of the sword once I've followed through with the stroke.

I've burned a hole in the leather and it's just the opening I need. With my newly freed hand I pull a knife from my waist and cut across the exposed skin. If I had stabbed him, I would've punctured a lung, but all the test requires me to do is make a mark where a fatal wound would be.

"I win," I announce, and Thor must've felt it, because I don't get a hammer to the back of the head.

My team rushes the sparring ground; I'm the fifth out of our group of twenty-four to make Einherjar. I'm officially a soldier. The elites come to congratulate me too, it's quite the victory. I'm the youngest person ever to make Einherjar, and only the second female to acquire a rank since the Valkyrie perished.

But honestly, now all I want to do is take a nap.


	20. Here Come the Sun(s)

Age 14

Outskirts, Alfheim

We dismount a short distance away from the village. I forget how many villages we've been to, but I can see it's one of the smallest. They're harder to get to, which is why we Bifrosted just outside the village. If we can't get diplomacy to work on Alfheim, it really will mean war.

A small envoy meets us, soldiers and tribal elders alike. It's a rural village, unlike our visit last week, to one of the cities. Alfheim is pretty, the very opposite of Niflheim. Illuminated by two suns, and covered in a sea of golden grass ringed by rich green trees, I find myself distracted by it.

But I am sure to pay attention as the courtesies begin with the Alves. They're a proud people, kind, but not always forgiving. Loki speaks on behalf of Asgard, standing ahead of us. I notice I'm gaining attention, my glow just barely noticeable in the daylight.

Loki motions to us, and I bow, though he and Thor as princes do not. We've brought Fandral and Sif with us as well, to look amiable. The other elites are back at the camp, leading the small force we brought from Asgard.

Once Loki is done with the pleasantries, the elders come to greet us personally. I stay next to Thor, since Loki's lost in the crowd now. He's good at diplomacy, it's why we've lasted so long without needing to use violence.

Thor, however, worries me. Royal as he is, the chance of him inadvertently offending someone and ruining the whole thing is very high. I do my best to keep an eye on him.

But the elders actually seem more interested in me. They bow to both Thor and I, but they face me. "You are most beautiful," one says. "Blessed by the sun."

"Chosen," another agrees. "It is a sign." I blush, but I'm also incredibly confused.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Your light," yet another elder explains, female this time, "it shows you are favored of the suns. We are honored by your presence."

"Oh… okay." That's different, at least. The Asgardians prefer to see my light as a sign of Hel, so it's a welcome change.

"We apologize for not better preparing for your arrival." They're talking to both of us now. "News often doesn't travel to us, and we did not expect your great interest to come to our home."

Thor looks hurt by that, officially, this whole diplomatic mission is under his supervision. It was his idea that we visit the smaller towns, against Odin's advice. "We are honored to be here," he assures them. "We've come in peace."

"We are grateful for that. We hope you will consider our pleas. We do not wish to go to war." They are very cordial, unlike the previous village, which separated all of us for what was basically interrogation.

"Neither do we," I butt in. I've been instructed to promote a peaceful resolution as much as possible, but I don't think I'm very good, but I try. Loki says my presence helps assure people though, which is why I'm diplomatic missions in the first place.

If they were polite at Thor's comments, they're ecstatic at mine. They really do look at me differently, and even though it's positive, I'm not sure I like it any better. The group that met us starts to lead the way into the village, and I move to walk next to Loki.

"They like my glow," I tell him, "maybe too much, it's weird."

"They're called Light Elves for a reason, Ally, and this tribe is particularly devout. You shine like their sun, they have to put importance on that," he explains.

"Yeah, but it's creepy. They keep staring at me."

"It'll work in our favor, they're only admiring." That's not exactly comforting, but I try to relax as we walk.

Music sounds from the village, light and joyous. They sound like they're celebrating. We're being approached again, and this time it's all kinds of people, families with kids and workers having left behind their work to see us.

"Welcome our friends from Asgard!" Cheers erupt from around us. "Please accept our many gifts." Within moments, I'm wreathed in flowers and jewelry. Thor has a new cape draped on his back, and has been handed a rope, with a strange looking, three eyed goat on the other end. Loki accepts a large bundle of some kind of grain, and Sif and Fandral receive presents as well.

"Thank you!" Thor bellows awkwardly. "We are honored by your offerings."

Something tugs on my skirt, and I look down to find a small group of children with faces lit up in wonder. I smile, honestly, because they're cute.

"Thank you for coming, Your Highness," one of the girls says. "We've never met a princess before." I blush, which only makes me glow brighter, and draws more eyes to me. I crouch down, even though I'm already mostly on their level.

"I'm not a princess, but thank you for letting me come," I tell them. It's easier talking to the kids. "Your village is so pretty." They laugh. I wish I wasn't lying to them, but neither Loki or Thor has said anything, so I guess we're going with it.

The girls pull me forward, and I shoot a look back at Thor and Loki. Loki nods encouragingly, and Thor just looks lost. I give them a look like they're no help. The girls giggle, and we're soon accompanied by older girls, my age and young adults.

"Are you sure you're not a princess?" one asks.

"You could be, if you married a prince!" Another interjects. I blush.

"Are you betrothed to Thor?" They're all speaking now, asking questions, and it's all I can do to shake my head. I do not like this.

"I'm not betrothed to anyone," I try to clarify. "I'm too young."

They continue their chatter, and I answer what questions I can. We're well into the village now, with Thor and Loki just barely following as they discuss with the elders. I'm led into a building, it looks nicer than most of the shacks and smaller buildings. Overlapping suns are carved into the white and gold stone, and fires burn in a variety of braziers and torches. I can sense them, even when I close my eyes. To anyone else it must be swelteringly hot in here, but I don't notice. I do notice the smell though, like herbs burning.

"Please, my lady, would you mind sitting on the dais? We would like to pray in your presence, your light with aid our pleas in their journey to the suns." I choke, coughing.

"I don't want to be rude," I struggle to explain, "I'm not sure I understand the ritual. Are you praying to me?"

"Oh no, you are not a god. But the brighter light is said to hasten our prayers to the heavens. You are like unto a sun yourself, my lady."

I'm getting some very conflicting signals, and fear keeps me rooted to the spot while wanting nothing more than to run screaming from this place. My blushing light brightens to rival that of all the fires. I'm not particularly religious myself, for a variety of reasons. The foremost being that getting kidnapped and travelling to several different planets tends to entirely destroy your worldview.

The women are still looking at me expectantly, so I grudgingly move up to the dais. There's a chair, but I don't sit. It's not that what they're doing is strange, it just makes me uncomfortable. Their language is unfamiliar, and they seem to be singing their prayers. At times the flames around them appear to dance to the melodies. I get distracted looking at them, though I can still feel the eyes on me.

I sit after a couple minutes. I wonder if they know that suns are just giant balls of gas in space, it doesn't seem to me like something that should be worshipped. Maybe I am like a sun in that aspect, they shouldn't hold me in that kind of honor anyway. At least all I have to do is sit here. Still, the songs are sung with unsettling notes that reverberate off the walls, combining with new ones to twist the melodies. I wonder if they'd notice me bolting from the building.

When the songs are done, the women come up to the dais, and I'm quick to leave the chair and rejoin them. "You have our thanks," they say. "We offered prayers in your behalf as well."

I'm surprised by that, it's very kind of them. "Thank you, I appreciate it."

"We prayed that the suns may help us all create peace on Alfheim, and quickly, so that you may return home and find a husband." I blush, throwing yet more light into the room. I wish I could jump into a brazier and escape into oblivion. This is gonna be a long diplomatic mission.

I can't bring myself to say anything, which makes many of the women giggle. They lead me out and I'm glad to see Thor and Loki not far off. I shoot Loki a 'please get me out of this' look.

"We'll see you at the feast tonight, my lady." My entourage leaves and I walk over to my friends, taking Loki's offered arm. Sif and Fandral nod in greeting.

"This is so awkward," I tell him. "They're too nice. It's creepy."

"They're just being polite, Ally, it's nothing to worry about."

"They think I'm a sun! They prayed that I would go home and find a husband!" Thor chuckles and I blush, not realizing he'd been listening. "It's not funny."

"It isn't, I know. But we won't be here for much longer. With the way things are going, we can talk things out at the feast, amend the treaty tomorrow, and be on our way by the afternoon."

"That's not so bad," I admit. "I'm just uncomfortable."

"We'll make sure one of us is with you at all times," Sif interjects. "I don't like it much either."

"It's something we can use to our advantage though," Loki says. "If they respect Ally that much, she's our key to making things go smoothly." I groan.

"You can do it, Ally. They won't expect you to negotiate, but having you present will help. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

We're led to our rooms, where our stuff has been brought. Even in the Outskirts, we have propriety to maintain, which means respecting the local customs to not wear armor while we're here. I've just about broken in my new leather set, and the blacksmiths say they're close to getting a metal version to work. Hopefully, if these preliminary missions go well, I won't need it.

Sif and I wear simple dresses, we aren't here to show off wealth, just be polite. The men wear formal tunics. It's interesting to see everyone out of their armor on a mission, but that's the point of diplomacy. Showing the people that there's more to Asgard than its war hungry past.

More music plays as we enter the central area. Stringed instruments I've never seen before, and drums, with quiet complicated rhythms. It's calming, unlike the song prayers that were sung before.

A table has been set up, laden with a variety of breads and soups. It's a staple for the more rural Alf towns, where different kinds of grain are grown in abundance. They pair the breads with soups to further vary the flavors.

We don't eat yet though, it seems there are yet more formalities. One of the elders, probably the leader, gives a speech, and I do my best to pay attention. He thanks the suns for the harvest and the children being born, and most of all for the arrival of the Asgardians. I smile, looking out at the gathered crowd.

"We know many of our brother and sister tribes are angry. We acknowledge their protests and share their concerns, but we wish only to resolve the matter peacefully. We have had honor and peace as part of the Nine Realms, and we would be remiss to have that come to an end." The leader sounds sincere, and despite my personal qualms about their beliefs, it's a relief to hear that this won't turn into a fight.

The feast officially begins and I eat politely, sampling different breads and a couple different soups. Alfheim has some interesting vegetables, and the soup comes in a variety of vibrant colors. Deep purple, aqua, orange. They're all savory soups, and I find that I enjoy them.

The conversation at the table is subdued, and not many questions are directed toward me. I get plenty of staring though, and I try to brush it off. It's just part of their culture. They aren't judging me, not like on Asgard.

As the first sun sets, the light in the pavilion darkens. There's still more than enough to see, and the rosy light reflects off the few clouds in the sky, while the second sun makes its way to the horizon. They set and rise about an hour apart, and almost every sunset is this stunning.

A song starts up almost immediately, like the prayer ones, but not as creepy. Some of the villagers get up and make their way to the ornate stone building. They emerge carrying the braziers, as if they're making up for the loss of light. Additional torches are lit, and continue to be added as the second sun sets. Conversation subsides, we all watch the fire and the sun instead. I wonder if they do this every night, or if it's because of the occasion. Soon, all trace of sunlight is gone, but the pavilion is still bright.

"What is the purpose of the fire?" Loki asks. He seems more relaxed out here, he enjoys the diplomacy and seeing other cultures.

"We mourn the setting of the suns, and the loss of light. The fire protects us from the dark, pushing it back until the suns return to save us." It's a superstition, of course, but I find that I like it. The reverence of the light, the view of it as a protector.

The brazier in front of us goes out, and I automatically move to relight it, tossing a small fireball the few feet to the coals. It reignites, and the hushed conversation stills. Anyone who wasn't looking at me before has turned their attention.

"You truly are a sun," the elder says. "Unfamiliar to us, from far away, but come to protect and save."

"I'm not- I'm just- I can't" Loki elbows me and I fall quiet, trying to stop the rising panic. I get a breath in and force out a thank you, which seems to lessen the tension.

"We will negotiate when the suns rise again," he continues. "Your presence will bless the new treaty and create peace in the land."

We are guided back to the place they've given us to stay, and I realize for the first time how much darker Alfheim is at night. With the two suns, it's so bright in the daylight that every shadow in the nighttime looks like some eldritch monster. Maybe the villagers are on to something. I glow brighter as we walk, provoking more excited whispers from our entourage. I'm starting not to mind.

The night passes quickly, and after a light breakfast, we meet in a garden. It's nestled into the vegetable gardens, and the aroma in the air is of spices and herbs. It's Loki, Thor, and I, we didn't want to overwhelm them.

Loki begins, starting with the fact that we've been able to renegotiate treaties with almost ten other villages, and that there's terms everyone has to accept. The first is that they rejoin the overall coalition between Alf tribes, since Asgard can't recognize the hundred different sects as individual kingdoms. The second is to keep the peace. No one wants this to come to war, now or in the future.

It takes a lot of reasoning to bring this group to that point though. We hear their story, how the other villages mock them for their devotion to worship, how their positioning in the area brings further isolation. They would rather be their own people, free to live under the suns.

Hearing their side of the story makes me no longer uncomfortable. I understand where they're coming from now, and I can relate to them. I can overlook that they think I'm a sun or whatever, if it helps them deal with hardships.

We find that we can accept most of their terms. We can take their concerns about religious discrimination and trading routes to the other villages and the major city in this area. We can promise them safety, and that they'll have an access point to further voice their complaints.

I do my best to help out, but my presence seems more than enough. I just smile and encourage them to speak up when I see that Thor or Loki havent noticed. Everyone gets a chance to speak, and we end with a treaty that everyone is satisfied with.

They talk us into staying for a celebration feast, adding that they've have a surprise. With how well negotiations went, these people deserve to know we do care about them, and not just about ruling.

The feast is a more casual gathering than the night before. The tables are closer together, and people mingle freely, unafraid to come talk to the Asgardians. We laugh and smile, and the looming tension has completely dissipated.

The song starts up again as the first sun sets, but the people don't bring out the braziers as they did before. It makes me worried, like we embarrassed them by asking about it before. But I know it's important to them, making up for the lost light. I glow as bright as I can, subtly, trying to help.

"Where is the fire?" Loki asks, and I'm glad I'm not the only one who noticed. It just seems so strange to me.

"Have no fear," is the response comes, "and be patient." The singing increases as the second sun descends under the horizon. I glow even brighter, not caring now if people notice.

But as the darkness encroaches on the pavilion, it reveals the surprise. Glowing lines coat the arms and legs of the villagers, casting weak but noticeable light. It's obvious what they're trying to mimic. Like veins, my light flickers and waves across my skin, matching me to the people who grin eagerly. I smile back, letting them know how much I appreciate it.

"They're beautiful," I say. "Thank you."

"You are beautiful," they tell me. "Our third sun." I blush. The kids pull me from my seat, they're painted with the glowing lines too, and immediately start a game of tag. I chase after them, happy to play.

The feast turns into a party that lasts into the long hours of the night. This is what all of Alfheim should be like, able to laugh and celebrate without fear. This is the goal. And I'm happy to be part of it.

As a kid, I wanted to be so many things. A mermaid, a dancer, a doctor, a firefighter. Someone that changed lives. But now I'm actually doing it. I'm helping. It's better than anything I've done so far in life, even compared to saving everyone's butts on Niflheim. This is important, lasting change that I didn't have to accomplish with fighting.

When we ride out the next morning, it's with tired bodies and uplifted spirits. Loki rides next to me, we'll have to reach the Bifrost first and debrief the command center before they send us to the next village. This is a small but important victory.

"Thank you for your help, Ally," Loki says, after we've ridden for a while. "That went smoother than anyone expected."

"It's not like I did much," I reply. "I just stood there most of the time."

Loki sends me a disapproving look. "You did more than stand there. You listened to them, you advocated for them. You showed them that we care, and that we respect their beliefs. You gave them hope."

I think about that as we ride. It's hard to see, but I guess I was understating my own involvement. I did help. I smile as we enter the last leg of our journey.

Loki notices, and he smiles back at me. "You're amazing, Ally, don't forget that." He catches my eye. "You're radiant."


	21. Isolated System

Age 14

Niflheim

I wipe my nose off with the back of my wrist, the leather vambrace permanently stained with blood. Loki keeps a hand on my back, urging me forward.

"We're almost there, and then you can rest," he promises. He catches me as I stumble over the uneven ground. A torch goes out behind us, but it's all I can do to keep the vanguard light enough to see. A soldier complains from where my glow can't reach.

"Say that again and I'll toss you down a chasm," Thor shouts at them. The murmuring quiets. We're not quite a week into our quest, and we've already had to turn back. Once we got into the fog, we realized rather abruptly that I can't provide enough visibility for fifty men to see without passing out. So we're dropping most of them off back at the Bifrost site, and then pressing forward. First I have to make it there without dying.

Niflheim is quieter than Sakaar, but no less deadly. In most places the rivers are toxic, and much of the land is covered in a thick blanket of fog. We camp in small oases, unfortunately not the tropical tree kind, but they have clean water and edible plants. The one night so far that we had to camp without one was unpleasant. It'll only get worse the closer we get to our goal.

An hour or so later, we reach the Bifrost site. It's the only place Heimdall can reach us, due to Niflheim's unstable nature. It's also the only place the faint sunlight can reach. I lay in the dirt, my light cutting out. Loki sits beside me, watching as Thor directs men to redistribute supplies.

"You're doing great, Ally, it'll be easier now." I don't respond, I'm almost falling asleep. Loki lets me rest for a moment, but pulls me into a sitting position before I can actually drift off. He hands me a canteen. Water here tastes vaguely like sulfur, but we boil it before we drink it, and no one has gotten sick yet.

I do fall asleep sitting up, and when I wake I can tell it's been several hours. Loki hasn't moved though, and helps to steady me.

"I'm glad you got some rest," he tells me. "We're going to camp here for tonight and move out in the morning. We should be able to move faster now, and with a better sense of the terrain, the navigators think it'll only take a little over a month to get there." The last estimate was closer to two months.

"That's good." If the rest of the quest is gonna be this hard on me, better get it over with quick.

Two weeks later, I wish we would've just gone home.

The mist and fog grows progressively thicker, with less open spaces for my light to fill. I'm getting better at it, but Niflheim is more dangerous than we previously thought. Not that we knew it quite yet.

"I swear I heard something," I whisper to Loki. It's like footsteps almost, but far away and uneven.

"It's just the wind," he tells me. "We aren't into the fog enough yet, nothing can live here. There's still too much light." I make a mocking face that he can't see. The last couple weeks have been uneventful, but creepy. It's like we've been living the first five minutes of a scary movie, with all the suspense and none of the jumpscares.

We stop so the navigators can double check the landmarks. The land isn't barren, as the rolling fog suggests, there's mountains and valleys that we have to be careful of. There's life here, somewhere, plants that feed off of the fog and mist rather than sunlight. They're black twisted things, and they burn too quickly to use as firewood.

I drink some water, illuminating the map with my other hand. I called it flashlight duty once, and then had to explain to the Asgardians what a flashlight even was. I still thought it was funny.

I hear the sound again, closer this time. And judging by the shared worried looks of the navigators, I'm not the only one.

"We shouldn't be close enough for lifeforms, not even draugr," Inak says.

"Unless the gate's getting weaker," Marn replies. I don't know what they mean, but I trust them. Anyone who actually knows where they're going in this abyss of a place has my utmost respect.

"We should keep moving," Thor urges. "It's too early to camp." Inak plots a route and we start to head out. The footsteps continue around us, getting more frequent, but not closer. I push harder with my glow, hoping whatever it is will keep them at bay.

"What are draugr?" I ask Loki when he comes to stand at the front. He doesn't always walk by me, the rest of them rotate so they take turns in the back where it's darker.

"The main occupants of this realm, they're barely sentient." Loki sounds strange, on edge.

"So we don't have to worry about them?" I prod.

"You'll be safe should we encounter them."

"That's so comforting, thank you. I feel so safe. I'm so very secure here in dark and creepy fog world-"

"Alright, I get it. Ally, draugr aren't proper beings, they're generally created, not born." He looks over his shoulder. "Draugr is a general term for a body that's been reanimated through some kind of magical means."

I turn to look at him. "You mean a zombie. A magical zombie. We're surrounded by _magical zombies._ "

"We're not surrounded," Loki is quick to argue. "And they're not zombies. Most of them can't even walk, especially not this variety. They're distressing to see, but I assure you you're safe."

"They don't want to eat my brain or something?" I ask.

Loki chuckles. "They're mindless, and unless they've been enchanted with a specific goal in mind, they won't attack anything with a light source. They won't eat your brain." I half suspect he's lying about that last part to comfort me, but I've decided I don't actually want to know. We keep marching forward.

We do well for another hour or so, but the sounds of footsteps aren't the only ones that plague us. Something bigger is dragging through the sand and rock. Faint moans are just audible, with no apparent cause. Shadows move, but never get close enough to see more then amorphous blobs.

The fear makes my light unsteady. It naturally looks like a campfire, but now it flickers wildly, like flames fighting fierce winds. I force it to be even, but the closer the sounds get, the more exhausted I am. I can barely keep the immediate area around us lit by the time we camp.

Inak and Marn have led us to a cave, easily defendable and closed off inside, so there's no eerie tunnels for zombies to sneak out of. Everyone pools the firewood they were able to find during the day, we'll need it for tonight. I sit up against the wall, making sure that everyone can see as they get the fire going. I might be able to get a couple extra hours of sleep, the cave will keep out the fog that normally kills the campfire.

We eat, and I've grown used to the tasteless army rations. They're sustaining, but bland and dry. I wash them down with the water that leaves a faint sulphur taste in my mouth. I wish I could brush my teeth.

I sit close to the fire, closer than even the Asgardians can handle. The light and the heat don't bother me, though I do have to fight the Flame's desire to stoke the fire and burn all the firewood. It's not happy with me for being used for light all day. It wants to destroy.

"We need to discuss what to do about the draugr," Thor says. His eyes keep flitting to the entrance of the cave, and he's not the only one. The threat has us all jumpy.

"Whatever is sourcing them has obviously increased since our preliminary expeditions," Marn notes. "I still maintain that it can't be sentient, these draugr are too mindless. If someone was enchanting them, they would've attacked us by now."

"Draugr don't have natural sources," argues Fandral. "They don't just grow from the ground."

"Niflheim doesn't follow the laws of other realms. Remember what else is here," Loki reminds. I give him a questioning look.

"Our path should take us well out of the way," Inak inputs. "We don't have to worry about the dangers of the gate."

"What gate?" I ask.

"The gate to Hel," Loki says after a moment. "It's sealed, but the main opening is here."

"Hel? First zombies, and now Hel?" I shake my head. "Did I miss a briefing meeting before we left or was no one going to tell me?"

"The draugr weren't supposed to be an issue," Thor explains. "And we weren't sure how far we'd get, even with your help." I throw up my hands, but don't say anything.

"I would argue they still aren't an issue," Marn says slowly. "They haven't attacked us and they might not. We'll quicken the pace, get to the plateau, and get out as fast as possible."

"Which was already the plan," Volstagg points out. "I'm already through with this blasted place."

"We'll still have to be careful." Loki is quick to advocate for caution. He likes that it makes it more surprising when he takes sudden (but calculated risks). "Ally's already being pushed hard, and if we lose her, not only will we be lost, but I'll hold each and every one of you responsible."

I blush deeply, grateful that I'm close enough to the fire that hopefully no one can tell. The conversation continues, but I start to unpack my bedroll. Inak, Marn, and Thor confer with the rest of our navigators to reroute and double check our path for tomorrow. I lay down, wincing as overworked muscles protest the hard ground.

"How are you feeling?" Loki asks me. "You did well today, I know it was uncomfortable."

"I'm fine, _Mom_ ," I grumble. I don't like being babied, and I'm still peeved that this mission includes freaking zombies and no one thought to tell me. "Actually, can you check my closet for monsters? In case there's zombies or werewolves or trolls hiding in there?"

"Ally, I'm sorry we didn't tell you. We truly thought it wouldn't be an issue."

I sit up and glower at him. "No. Don't treat me like a kid when I'm doing the actual hardest job here. You didn't tell me because you were afraid I'd refuse to come." Loki tries to but in, but I don't let him.

"You think I haven't faced monsters? What the Hel did you think I was doing before you took me from Eldmara?" I know he knows, I told him during training. The very first week, when I was scared to use my powers.

"You're right," Loki concedes. "We didn't take that into account. I'm sorry. I- Ultimately it was my father's choice."

"Of course it was." I accepted long ago that the King of Asgard wasn't fond of me, but this feels more like an excuse. Loki is sorry, sure, but he doesn't want to take responsibility.

"You should get some rest."

"I was trying to, thanks." I can't resist flopping back on my bedroll dramatically and turning away from him. It aggravates my incredibly sore muscles, but it's totally worth it.

I fall asleep quickly, I rarely have trouble getting to sleep. My healing power that allows me to hold the Flame can only do so much, and sleeping helps repair the damage. It doesn't mean my sleep is entirely restful. I dream I'm back on Sakaar, fighting in the ring, but this time all of my opponents are zombies. Eldmara and Odin are above me, laughing as I struggle to stay alive.

When I'm woken for my shift on watch, the fire is low, running out of wood to burn. I stay near it, sustaining it some. It's dark and I can't see very far outside the mouth of the cave. It was definitely less creepy to keep watch when I didn't think anything was actually out there.

Eventually, the land begins to brighten just a little, the darkest part of the night has passed. I'll get a couple more hours of sleep before the fire goes out completely, and then it's back to trekking through the wasteland… full of zombies.

But first I have to wake Loki, he always takes the shift after me. On the few nights I can't go back to sleep, he keeps me company, telling stories or teaching me about magic while he keeps watch.

Tonight though, I'm not in the mood to talk. I shake his shoulder, give him a brief report of my watch, and lay back down on my bedroll. He doesn't push, but as I start to drift off, he does whisper softly, just barely audible over the sound of Thor snoring.

"I am sorry we didn't tell you. But I will keep you safe, Ally, I promise."

The fog is heavy when I wake again, it always is in the morning. The fire is dead, but only recently burnt out. I can't have slept for more than a couple extra hours. Every minute counts though.

We're oddly quiet as we prepare, all likely sharing the same hope that keeping quiet will allow us to stay hidden. We eat, we pack, and move out in almost complete silence. Inak, Loki, and I take point, and the others fall in behind us.

It isn't long before we hear the draugr again, and they get closer much sooner than before. The fog hides detail, but it's clear to see that they're people shaped now. The fog doesn't impede the moans and gravelly tones that sound straight out of a horror movie.

"They won't come closer," Loki whispers after we pass a particularly loud group in the distance. "They don't like the light." I'm inclined to believe him, so far none of them have followed us, but I'm still bitter about last night so I don't say anything.

Turns out I'm right to be suspicious. An hour later, our route becomes eerily silent. We still see the shapes of draugr around us, but they make no sound or movement. The fog swirls around them, still as statues, sending chills down my back. It thickens and thins without warning, and I push against it, glowing brighter. We press onward in tight formation, all trying to be close enough to me to see.

We should've spread out. As the fog thins, a scream sounds, and I see my first draugr clearly as its teeth tear through the Marn's neck as he brings up the rear. He chokes on his own blood as he falls. I stumble backwards, mouth agape in horror.

"At arms!" Thor shouts.

I draw my sword with a shaky arm, and hold it before me in an unsure grip. The fog dissipates further, exposing more and more grisly corpses. Grey and emotionless, with skin missing in patches and limbs that jerk unnaturally, they advance. We meet them blow to blow, against weapons long rusted and rarely whole. They aren't the most skilled of fighters, but any wound I land receives no reaction. They don't feel pain.

I force myself to focus, dropping several, but they keep swarming, creating space between the group and forcing us apart. I struggle to hold to my sword forms, and cry out as I fail to deflect all of the attacks. When I can no longer see my companions, the fighting shifts. I engage a draugr that's faster than the others, wielding an intricately carved staff. He's the first to show even a hint of emotion, I can see traces of anger in his clouded eyes.

He continues to press me, and the others don't stop attacking. They're trying to overwhelm me, and it takes everything I have to keep everyone at bay. The far off sounds of my friends are hard to make out. The angry one grabs my blade with his bare hand, twisting it so I get locked in a hold with his staff. We grapple, and I pull as hard as I can, hoping I can get my sword free.

Instead it snaps. Right in half, like a toothpick. The momentum pushes me back. I fight hand to hand, but I can't reach my other weapons as decaying hands immobilize me. Finally, someone's battlefield cry reaches me.

"Fire!"

Right, duh.

I ignite my hands, but hesitate at the face of my attacker. The anger is still there, but I can't determine if there's fear beside it. I'm filled with images of Sakaar, of bodies burning because of me.

"Ally!"

I thrust my arm in front of me, and the assailant takes the brunt of my first attack. I hope that Loki is right, that they're just bodies. But as the fire spreads quickly, it adds to the macabre scene as rotting flesh is consumed. As I get a moment to catch my breath, the stench hits me. Putrid and thick, like a portapotty left to rot and then set on fire.

I hurry to get out of the smoke, dodging draugr as they reach for me in desperation. They are as silent in death as they were in battle. I pass piles of corpses, the dead undead, both burnt and defeated. Only members of our company remain standing, and I'm one of the last to make it to them.

It isn't until Sif stops me that I realize I've been running. There's tears and panic on my face, though I hadn't registered much of either in the battle. I don't belief Sif when she tells me it's over, or Loki when he pulls me from her.

Unfortunately for them, I'm right.

"We need to move!" Inak announces. "The fire is dying out, but there's more draugr on the edges. They'll wait to attack."

"We can't take the eastern pass anymore," Thor says grimly. "They've cut us off there too."

"Then we're surrounded." Inak doesn't have to pull out a map to prove it. "Except for the cliffs."

"We'll have to do a skiff maneuver," Loki inputs. "Scout it, find a landing, we'll have Ally go first."

Thor argues, "She'll have to go later, I won't be able to see if she's on the ground." He flies away, but my eyes are still on the massacre behind us

"Ally, I need you to focus." I face Loki, but I don't understand what's going on. "When it's your turn, you need to level out, like you're lying on your stomach."

"What?"

"Thor will catch you, but you have to give him enough time." I look past him, trying to make sense of his words. I see that several members of the group have disappeared, and then I see why.

 _They're jumping off the cliff._

"Nononononononononono." The words can't come out of my mouth fast enough. "I'm not doing that, I'll fight my way out." I turn back to the draugr, intending to do just that.

"Ally, you can't, there's too many of them."

"I'm not jumping off a cliff!" I hiss. "This is like peer pressure lesson number one."

"We don't have time to argue this-" Loki drags me back as the last fires die out, and the waiting enemies start to enclose us.

"I'm sorry," Loki tells me, still holding onto my collar. "You'll be fine, I promise."

"What are you sorry- No!" Picking me up by my collar and by my belt, Loki launches me into the air. I scream, flailing and immediately forgetting everything I was told.

 _I'm gonna die._

Something hits me in midair, and my descent slows. It's not until I'm on the ground that I realize it's Thor, and he flies off to catch someone else. My heart pounds in my chest, and I take one step toward where the others are gathering and promptly fall to the ground. I still feel like I'm falling. The drab gravel beneath me spins, and though I can feel its support, it does nothing to quell absolute panic of being _thrown off a cliff_.

"Come on, we have to move." It's Loki, he must have made it down. I look up at him, but I must look dazed because he just sighs and leans down to help me up. After an impatient moment on shaky legs, he decides to carry me over his shoulder.

We move quickly and cautiously, or at least, that's what I assume after coming out of the shock a little. We don't want to run into any draugr. Those images repeat in my head, mingling with the panic of falling through the air. My stomach twists and my head still spins

I'm not sure how much time has passed, which is typical for Niflheim, but today is extra distressing. I want to stop and rest. Finally, we stop, and Loki sets me down on the ground.

"How do you feel?" he asks, rummaging in my pack for my canteen.

"Like I got thrown off a cliff," I retort, but it's lacking my usual sarcasm. I accept the water, drinking slowly. The taste of sulfur doesn't help my stomach, but dehydration is always my biggest problem.

"I'm sorry, we needed a quick evac." He looks me over for injuries, looking concerned. I continue to sip my water. "You don't look like you were thrown off a cliff," he teases gently. "Or like you fought one of the realm's greatest dangers."

I give him a slight smirk, and I'm surprised at the relief I see in his face. I realize how it must look, freaking out like this. Without me, we can't even make it back to the Bifrost site. We'd be stranded here. I have to pull it together.

"Are we camping here?" I ask, taking a deep breath.

Loki shakes his head. "No, we can't. It's late, but we're going to have to keep pushing. Our detour has led us too close to the gate."

"Of Hel?" I clarify. He nods. "Great."

"Are you up for it?" I'm not sure why he asks, it's not like I have much of a choice.

"I'll be okay." I offer a half smile.

"Take another minute, then we'll have to move out." I finish my canteen, and move to pack it away, but Loki takes it, handing me another one. I drink it too, feeling my stomach start to settle.

"We need to go," Inak calls out, taking his usual lead. I look for Marn, until I remember he was the first one to fall to the draugr. He's not the only we're one missing. Someone else takes his position as the first person watching our backs.

We walk in silence. We always walk in silence, but it's different now. Our every step is hesitant, every ear is listening. But it's more than that. The fog is still, no longer swirling, though I still have to push against it with my light. As I watch, the Flame itself barely flickers, for once a steady light. Despite the increased visibility, it sets me on edge.

I notice that we're in a canyon of sorts, being funneled toward one narrow chasm. I also see why we can't have Thor fly us up, these cliffs are steeper than the one we jumped off of, and even with my light, there's no way to find the top. It adds to the dead atmosphere to know that there's only one way out of this.

Inak and I spot the gate from our vantage point in the front. Towering and inky black, it doesn't reach the top of the canyon, but it's almost as tall as the Asgardian palace. As we approach, I notice that it's wrapped in chains. Thousands of them, different sizes and metals, with no visible locks. A few lay broken on the ground, and I can barely make out the seam where two doors meet.

"We need to move quickly," Inak tells us. "We can't linger near the gate." I nod, and the orders make their way back to the rest of the group. We increase the pace. I soon see why.

At the bottom of the gate, the doors have been bent open, just barely enough for someone to crawl through. It oozes fog, just faint wisps that curl out a few feet and then stills. There's something else about it, like the gate is looking at me. That tension lessens just slightly as one of the chains snaps and crashes to the floor, a metallic ring echoing off the canyon walls.

"Run," Inak yells, and we spring into motion, moving to put as much distance between us and the gate as possible. The clang resounds around us for a moment more, then quiets, leaving only a faint ringing. But we keep running.

I'm quickly outpaced, falling to the middle of the group and then closer to the back. It isn't just the Asgardian stamina, but their height and freakishly long legs. Hopefully I'll hit a growth spurt soon, if only so I can keep up.

When I hit the rearguard, Loki calls for us to slow. We still move quickly, but lucky for me, I can't be left behind. Everyone needs to see after, and I'm too tired to glow as brightly as I have been all day. The canyon widens, and eventually we find a break low enough to hike out of. Or mostly out of. My light grows dim, and we stop at the first cave that can provide adequate shelter.

We quickly run into another problem, the fact that in the commotion, we haven't collected any wood. No fire tonight. It's decided quickly we'll have to make do with what light I give off while I sleep. If we're going to find our way back to where we need to be, I have to rest.

I'm out as soon as I rehydrate, basically collapsing from exhaustion. I'm especially hard to wake for my night watch, but eventually I sit up and stare out into the chasm, listening for any sign of danger.

Inevitably, I think about the day. The draugr, emotionless but so violent. The cliff, the feeling of certain doom. The gate, with its chains and that presence I can't explain.

By the time I wake Loki up for his shift, I'm thoroughly spooked again. I report that it's been quiet and try to go back to sleep, but after at least a half an hour of tossing and turning, I sit up and scoot closer to Loki.

"I can't sleep," I tell him, a little ashamed. Though it's not the first time I've stayed up during his watch, it's the first time I feel like a little kid, too scared to go to sleep because of the monsters under the bed. "I keep thinking about the draugr."

Loki deliberates for a moment before speaking. "I am sorry you had to see that. We shouldn't have gotten ambushed."

"But we did," I point out, frustrated. "Stop apologizing. Saying sorry isn't going to help Marn, or anyone else we lost. You should have told me from the beginning, I could've been more prepared."

"You got us out," Loki countered. "Without your flames we would've fallen."

"That's just it!" I turn to him, making him see how much distress is in my face. "I have to fight the fog every day, I have to make sure we don't die when it's dark and creepy, I'm the only thing that really made a difference against a pack of zombies! You expect so much from me, but you don't actually trust me enough to warn me about what's going on! I almost couldn't do it. I hesitated lighting those things on fire. They fought just enough like people to throw me off."

"Ally-"

"No! I was barely able to do what I did. What would've happened if you never told me? What if I thought they were real people? You think I'm capable of that? Even if I am, it could've taken me too long. We could've lost everyone today." I wipe tears off my face, frustrated.

Loki places a tentative hand on my back. "You're right. I acted in error and I hid behind Odin's excuse. I was wrong."

I wait from the apology, but it doesn't come, even though I know he's being contrite. I nod slowly.

"There's nothing else we're keeping from you, Ally, I swear it. The draugr, the gate, those were our concerns. You know everything else that I know about the mission."

"Okay."

"And I meant what I said," Loki adds. "I will keep you safe. Even if it means throwing you off a cliff."

I shoot him a glare. "Only if I get to push you off one too," I grumble, staring back out into the chasm. Loki just smiles, and we keep watch as the blanket of darkness lifts ever so slightly.


End file.
